P©E 


LIFE,  CHARACTER 


AND 


THE 


Official  Account  of  bts  Jfatlj,  bg  bis  3Utcitimtg 
JOHN  J.   MORAN,  M.   D. 


WILLIAM     F.    BOOGHER,    PUBLISHER 
1331  F  STREET,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
1885. 


.    ls<.~>;  JOHN'  .1.  MOKAX.  M.  I). 


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PI; ix-  ..I-- 
1:1  i-'i  s  n.  i>\i:nv. 


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230140 


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PUBLISHETj  BY  W.F.BOOGHER. 


MRS.  SAKAH  K.  SIIKLTON. 


OF    UK  II.MONI.,    VIKIilMA, 


TIHS  LITTLE  VOU'MK 


3i  K  S  I'  !•:  (,'  T  P  U  L  L  Y    I)  K  DM'  A  T  1-:  I  > 


p 


B  Pft  0  E 


jUT  for  the  cruel  aspersioji8U|)on  the  character  and 
life  of  America's  poetic  genius,  EDGAR  ALLAN 
POB,  this  volume  would  have  remained  unwritten. 
KDUAR  ALLAN  POE  has  been  more  misunderstood 

•v 

than  any  other  poet  of  the  recent  past.  While  his  life 
was  beautiful  and  inspired, yet  aspersed,  his  last  moments 
had  more  of  sublimity  than  those  of  any  of  his  contem 
poraries.  The  author  of  gems  so  delicate  as  "  Annabel 
Lee,"  "The  Raven,''  and  "Lenore/'  while  no  less 
human  and  frail  than  others  of  his  day,  had  a  soul  and 
heart  that  stamped  him  an  offshoot  of  Divinity.  In 
order  that  the  story  of  POE'S  life  and  his  last  hours  may 
be  corrected  and  the  truth  made  known,  the  following 
pages  have  been  received  from  his  learned  physician, 
Dr  John  .1.  Monin,  who  attended  him  in  his  last  hours 
and  who  received  from  the  expiring  poet  his  dying 
declarations,  with  a  brief  history  of  his  life.  This  full 
and  complete  statement  will,  for  the  first  time,  be  given 
with  the  hope  and  belief  of  the  publisher  that  the  truth, 
so  long  delayed,  will  meet  with  sympathy  and  kind 
ness  from  an  impartial  and  discerning  public,  will  dis 
miss  the  false  impressions  that  have  been  made  upon  the 
mind  of  his  friends,  will  triumph  over  envy,  error  and 
falsehood,  and  the  pure  stream  of  POE'S  genius  will 
flow  on  and  on  forever. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FRONTISPIECE — KDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

THE  HOSPITAL  IN  WHICH  POE  DIED,  19 

THE  RAVEN  PERCHED  ON  THE  BUST  OF  PALLAS, 

THE  BELLS, .75 


HL-L-HN  Pee. 


^HIRTY-FJVE  years  have  elapsed  since 
the  death  of  EDGAR  ALLAN  Pot:.  Much 
has  been  said  and  written  in  relation 
to  this  singular  and  most  remarkable 
of  all  our  poets,  whose  life  has  been  an  enig 
ma  to  the  world  and  whose  death  a  mystery. 
The  nature  of  his  disease  and  how  he  died, 
up  to  the  present  day,  remains  a  matter  of 
doubt  except  so  far  as  have  been  gathered 
from  a  few  brief  voluntary  publications 
made  by  his  physician.  The  many  false 
charges  that  have  been  made  and  published, 
and  distorted  accounts  that  have  been  re 
ceived  as  truth,  have  been  translated  into 
several  languages:  and,  as  Mrs.  Whitman 
Has  said,  in  her  exceedingly  clear  and  clever 
little  work,  Poe  ami  ///.s  ( 'ritics,  "for  ten  years 
the  great  wrong  done  to  POE  by  his  tirst 
biographer,  Rufus  W.  (Iriswold,  was  suffered 
to  pass  by  unchallenged  and  unrebuked." 
This  was  true  to  a  great  extent,  yet  there 
•were  found  two  gentlemen,  one  of  whom 


10  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

knew  him  well,  Mr.  George  E.  Graham,  of 
New  York,  and  Mr.  John  H.  Ingram,  of 
London,  who  at  a  very  early  day  after  his 
death  (Mr.  Graham  in  1850,  and  Mr.  Ingram 
a  few  years  later),  wrote  and  published  the 
most  forcible  defense  that  has  yet  been  made, 
which  with  Mrs.  Whitman's  Poe  und  Iti*  Crit- 
ics,  have  so  uncovered  the  falsity  of  Griswold's 
account  of  FOE'S  life  that  few  if  any  are  now 
left  to  give  it  a  place  in  their  thoughts  or 
memory.  This  defense,  however,  was  too 
long  delayed:  the  mind  of  the  Kuropean 
world  became  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
the  charges  preferred  by  Griswold  were  true, 
as  they  remained  unanswered. 

It  was  in  1ST;"),  when  efforts  were  being 
made  by  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  Baltimore 
City  (MissS.  S.  Rice  most  prominent  among 
the  ladies)  to  procure  a  monument  to  FOE'S 
memory,  that  I  was  called  upon,  for  the  first 
time  since  his  death,  to  give  the  date  of  his  de 
cease  and  the  hour  he  died,  as  the  monument 
was  ready  for  the  inscription.  At  the  same 
time  I  was  asked  to  give  any  incidents  con 
nected  with  his  death,  that  they  might  be 
used  at  the  dedication.  Thus  twenty-six 
years  after  his  death  had  passed  ere  I  was 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE.  11 

called  upon  or  questioned  relative  to  the  de 
ceased  poet.  Without  vanity  permit  me  to 
say  I  firmly  believe  that  had  they  called 
upon  me  for  statements  as  to  when  he  died,  I 
could  have  been  instrumental  in  preventing 
his  dear  ''Muddied  Mrs.  Maria  Clemm,  and 
his  dear  affianced,  Mrs.  Shelton,  his  first  love. 
his  "Annabel  Lee,'7  from  the  sore  afflictions 
and  trials  and  the  heart-burnings  that  fell 
to  their  lot,  and  which  in  silence  they  en 
dured.  His  affianced,  Mrs.  Shelton,  wrote  to 
me  four  days  after  his  death,  inquiring  par 
ticularly  and  specifically  as  to  ho\v  he  died. 
the  nature  of  his  disease,  and  the  cause.  I 
at  once  replied,  telling  her  exactly  his  con 
dition,  giving  direct  answers  to  her  several 
questions,  and  wrote  that  he  was  as  well 
cared  for  and  as  tenderly  and  faithfully 
nursed  as  he  could  have  been  by  his  own 
dear  friend:  that  he  received  every  attention 
at  the  hands  of  one  of  the  professors  of  the 
faculty,  in  connection  with  myself,  and  all 
had  been  done  that  was  possible  for  his  best 
good,  and  that  I  had  sent  the  messages  left 
for  loving  friends. 

In  a  tew  days  I  received  an  answer  reply 
ing  in  these  words: 


12  EDGAR    ALLAN    FOE. 

I>i;\i;  Sn;:  1  must  apoioui/.e  to  you  for  having  addressed  a  ovntleman 
whom  I  had  never  seen  and  did  not  know.  Mr.  Poc  was  jnore  to  me 
than  any  other  living  l>eiu,n-,  and  I  write  to  yon  to  learn  from  you, 
as  hi>  phvsieian.  everv  particular  in  regard  to  his  illness,  disease  and 
death,  and  how  lie  died,  whether  conscious  at  anv  lime  previous  to  his 
demise  or  not. 

As  a  reason  for  desiring-  to  be  well  informed 
upon  these  points,  she  said  that— 

lli>  enemy.  hi>  first  biographer.  IJev.  Hufus  \\'.  (iriswold.  had 
published  in  /A//yV/-'.\  Monthly  Mij^r.iiii  an  article  relating  to  his 
death,  which  I  knew  to  he  untrue,  and  1  wished  to  he-  ahle  publicly  to 
denv  the  siine  ovei1  inv  own  signature. 

She  Curt  her  states: 

1  knew  that  M  r.  I '01:  did  not  die  drunk  and  t  hat  he  was  not  a  drunkard. 

She  lilted  me  to  <;vt  tlie  ina^axine  and  see 
the  article  for  myself.  I  did  so.  The  article 
ran  thus: 

KIX.AI;  ALLAN  POM  is  dead.  Thousands  will  hear  of  it.  hut  none- will 
regret  it.  He  died  in  an  unknown,  out-of-the-way  hospital  in  the  city 
of  Baltimore,  in  a  lit  of  delirium  trcmens, 

Her  predictions  were  true  to  the  letter,  as 
you  will  learn  further  on  in  this  memoir. 
His  death  occurred  on  October  7th,  184^. 
These  letters  were  written,  received,  and  an 
swered  inside  of  three  weeks  after  Iris  death. 
This  lady  who  took  such  interest  in  Mr.  POE 
was  his  affianced  the  second  time,  and  was 
living  at  her  home  in  Richmond,  Va.,  last 
June  twelve  months  ago.  I  paid  her  a  visit, 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  13 

the  particulars  of  which  will  be  found  in  this 
volume.  Time  speeds  on  and  I  repeat  that 
thirty-five  yA^i^Ji^w4^pi^^rlr^.n/l  at  this  Iflte 
Jjgriod  I  am  invited  and  urged  to  make  known 
the  facts  so  long  desired  in  reference  to  his 
death.  I  am  grateful  to  a  kind  Pmvidi 
for  having  spared  me  to  give  the  positive  facts 
and  unfold  to  the  public  mind  much  that  has 
not  been  made  known,  and  I  hope  to  remove 
all  doubt  in  respect  to  the  uncertainty  which 
has  so  long  surrounded  this  part  of  POE'S 
history  and  life.  1  now  proclaim  to  the 
world  that  he  has  been  shamefully  abused 
and  misrepresented,  that  the  habit  of  intem 
perance,  which  to  some  extent  did  cling  to 
him  in  his  earlier  history,  did  not  continue 
with  him  in  his  more  mature  life,  and  that 
what  I  shall  record,  shall  he  a  true,  unvar 
nished  story  from  personal  intercourse  for 
sixteen  hours  during  his  last  illness,  from  his 
death-bed  statements,  from  information  re 
ceived  elsewhere,  and  from  near  and  dear 
friends,  those  who  knew  him  and  loved  him. 
It  was  my  sad  duty  as  his  physician  to  sit 
by  his  death-bed;  to  administer  the  cup  of 
consolation ;  to  moisten  his  parched  lips ;  to 
wipe  the  cold  death-dew  from  his  brow;  and 


14  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

to  catch  the  last  whispered  articulations  that 
tVIl  from  the  lips  of  a  being,  the  most  re 
markable,  perhaps,  this  country  has  ever 
known.  Let  me  entreat  your  thoughtful 
attention,  therefore,  to  a  plain,  unvarnished 
story  of  a  checkered  life,  and  the  strange  and 
melancholy  events  that  darkened  the  last 
hours  of  a  dying  genius.  There  is  no  heart 
so  dead  to  human  sympathy  as  not  to  feel 
some  dcgive  of  interest  in  the  deceased  poet, 
whose  wonderful  gifts  have  long  been  ac 
knowledged,  not  only  in  this  country,  but 
wherever  polite  literature  is  known,  and  in 
regard  to  whose  death  so  many  incredible 
stories  have  been  told,  and  so  many  absurd 
and  cruel  misstatements  have  been  made. 
Some,  indeed,  are  left  who  feel  for  him  in 
the  highest  degree.  Some  are  not  here,  but 
elsewhere,  who  feel  with  an  intensity  un 
known  to  earth,  but  realized  only  in  the 
bright  realms  above,  where  the  father's 
prayer  and  the  mother's  tears  have  touched 
the  Mighty  Heart  whose  throbbings  move 
the  universe. 

It  is  proper  that  I  should  state  that  the 
work  I  have  undertaken,  at  the  earnest  en 
treaties  of  his  numerous  friends,  is  not  of  my 


EDGAR  ALLAN  P(  >K,  15 

seeking,   profoundly   impressed   as   I    have 
been  by  the  conviction  of  duty  I  owe  to  the 
memory  of  the  deceased  and  to  his  numerous 
friends  as  well.   Yet  I  was  reluctant  in  yield 
ing  my  consent  to  undertake  so  responsible 
a   task.     But   now,   after   frequent   appeals 
made  to  me  from  time  to  time  by  many  of 
the  leading  journalists  and  literary  men  of 
this  country,  and  by  earnest,  sympathizing 
ladies,  whose  sensitive  hearts  are  ever  touch 
ed   by    human    misfortune,   and    who    are 
always  in  advance  of  the  sterner  sex,  I  am 
persuaded  that  I  should  lend  my  feeble  aid 
as  a  witness  to  the  truth,  and  refute  the  foul 
accusations  cast  upon  the  memory  of  POE, 
and  repel  the  vile  slanders   respecting  his 
death.     The  time  has  come  when  every  fact 
and  incident  of  his  remarkable  career  should 
be  made  known.    But  of  all  these  entreaties, 
none  have  done  more  to  determine  my  pur 
pose  than  those  of  the  lady  to  whom  he  was 
affianced,  and  his  dear  mother-in-law,  Mrs. 
Maria  Clemm,     These  appeals,  made  years 
ago,  have  never  lost  their  influence,  though 
seemingly  unheeded  in  the  lapse  of  time. 
They  come  back  to  me  with  renewed  force, 
especially  since  the  interest  manifested  in 


16  EDGAR    ALLAN   POE, 

New  York,  a  few  years  ago,  by  friends  whose 
admiration  of  the  poet  led  them  to  under 
take  the  erection  of  a  suitable  monument  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  this  wonderful 
genius. 

All  praise  to  the  names  of  Gill,  Winter, 
Campbell,  Abbey,  Palmer,  Stoddard,  and 
others  in  New  York,  and  to  Dr.  Elmer  E. 
Reynolds,  of  Washington  City,  and  others ; 
but  1  accord  equal  commendation  to  the 
generous  and  sympathizing  ladies  who  have 
jointly  and  heartily  united  their  efforts  to 
accomplish  what  the  men  alone  could  not  do. 

All  praise  to  Madame  Dion  Boucicault, 
Madame  Phillips,  Mrs.  Belle w,  Mrs.  Crosby, 
Mrs.  Coleman,  Mrs.  Dalilgren,  Mrs.  Wrn. 
Astor,  and  others. 

Lo \\KI.L,  March  _?,  1850, 
DK.  JOHN  .1.  MOHAN. 

DKAR  SIR:  I  think  you  will  pardon  the  liberty  I  t:iko  in  again  writing 
to  you.  But  iirst  permit  me  to  most  gratefully  thank  you  for  your  kind 
letter  relative  to  the  death  of  my  beloved  (son)  K.  A.  POJ;.  In  Novem 
ber  last  I  received  a  letter  from  Xeilson  Poe,  saying  that  you  had  placed 
in  his  possession  my  son's  trunk,  and  asking  me  in  what  way  he  was  to 
dispose  of  it.  I  instantly  replied  to  him  requesting  him  to  send  it  on  to 
me,  that  /  a/one  had  miy  claim  to  it.  1  was  anxious  to  receive  it,  as  the 
publishers  of  my  son's  work  are  constantly  writing  to  me  for  the  lectures 
and  other  papers  which,  we  all  think,  must  have  been  in  his  trunk.  At 
all  events  procure  from  him  my  darling  Kddic's  letter  to  myself,  which 
I  s«-nt  to  him  to  convince  him  that  I  was  entitled  to  the  trunk,  and 
them  to  me.  for  they  are  a  thousand  times  more  precious  to  rue 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  17 

.'han  ru&ies.  Will  you  do  this  great  favor  for  me?  Have  you  seen  the 
March  number  of  Graham's  Magazine  ?  If  not,  do  get  it  and  read  the 
noble  defense  of  my  son  by  Mr.  Graham.  I  shall  be  most  anxious  for 
your  reply  ;  and  may  God  bless  you  for  soothing  the  dying  hours  of  my 
o\vn  precious  Kddie.  Most  gratefully,  M  MM  A  CU:MM. 

I  repeat  the  language  of  Mrs.  Clemm.  One 
of  her  letters  to  me  opens  with  these  words : 
"May  God  bless  you  for  soothing  the  dying 
hours  of  my  precious  Eddie."  Then  she 
urges  me  to  accept  two  of  his  letters  written 
to  her,  that  I  might  use  them  in  his  defense. 
These  two  letters  were  sent  to  her  just  before 
his  death.  "Use  them,"  she  writes,  "in  de 
fense  of  his  character  and  name ;  they  testify 
the  truth  ;  they  are  to  me  a  thousand  times 
more  precious  than  rubies."  The  tear-stained 
letter  which  was  written  to  me  shortly  after 
his  death  is  with  me  now  upon  my  person, 
as  a  talisman  and  shield  for  my  defense  in 
this  conflict  with  his  enemies  and  accusers, 
many  of  whom  are  able  writers  and  journal 
ists  of  the  present  day.  They  have  written 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  facts,  thereby 
doing  great  injustice  to  his  memory.  Her 
appeals  have  stirred  my  soul  to  its  deepest 
depth,  and  given  me  a  longing  desire  to  do 
what  I  could,  even  at  this  late  day,  to  relieve 
the  public  mind  of  the  false  impressions 


18  EDGAR   ALLAN    .I'OK. 

made  regarding  POK'S  habits  of  life;  how  he 
died,  the  nature  of  his  death,  his  true  condi 
tion  at  that  period,  and  to  give  the  parting 
words  uttered  in  the  last  moments  of  his 
life.  I  do  not  design  to  arraign  any  writer, 
nor  to  prefer  charges  against  biographers. 
I  have  been  somewhat  reflected  upon  by  at 
least  one  of  these,  in  regard  to  my.  knowl 
edge  of  mental  diseases,  and  especially  that 
class  of  subjects  who  suffer  from  intemper 
ance  and  frequent  debauches. 

The  hospital  in  which  the  poet  died  has 
been  questioned  as  to  its  standing  and  char 
acter.  My  professional  experience  has  been 
assailed,  my  veracity  and  even  my  own 
identity  have  been  disputed.  You  will  not 
accuse  me  of  egotism  or  self-praise.  As  a 
stranger  to  you,  you  have  a  right  to  demand 
and  to  know  who  I  am,  whether  I  held  the 
position  of  resident  physician  at  the  Wash 
ington  University  Hospital  in  the  city  of 
Baltimore,  where  the  poet  died;  whether  he 
died  in  my  charge,  and  what  was  the  char 
acter  of  the  institution  named.  Concerning 
an  oft-repeated  slander,  I  here  affirm  that 
EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  did  not  die  under  the  in 
fluence  of  any  kind  of  intoxicating  drink. 


-  ± 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  21 

Eemembering  the  mother's  blessing,  and  the 
tears  and  entreaties  of  the  broken-hearted 
affianced,  Mrs.  Sarah  E.  Shelton,  who  yet 
lives,  and  who  said  to  me  a  few  months  ago, 
at  her  home  in  Richmond,  "I  would  have 
gone  down  to  my  grave  in  the  firm  belief 
that  MR.  POE  did  not  and  could  not  have  died 
a  drunkard  or  from  drink."  I  now  under 
take  to  make  good  this  declaration. 

The  hospital  in  which  POE  died  was  second 
to  none  in  Baltimore  as  to  size,  comforts  and 
location.  It  was  known  for  many  years  as 
the  Wushhujtou  College  Unim-Kity  Hospital, in 
which  hundreds  of  students  daily  traversed 
its  wards,  receiving  instruction  at  the  bedside 
of  patients  from  able  professors  of  the  fac 
ulty.  It  contained  two  hundred  beds,  and  had 
seldom  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
patients,  whose  names  were  on  the  hospital 
record.  I  have  the  honor  to  say  that  I  con 
ducted  and  controlled  this  institution  for  six 
years  as  resident  physician,  living  with  my 
family  on  the  premises.  I  had  the  entire 
charge  and  responsibility  of  house  and  pa 
tients,  including  United  States  sailors,  a  por 
tion  of  the  hospital  being  set  apart  for  this 
class  of  patients,  who  were  sent  there  by  or 
der  of  the  Government. 


22  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

Just  after  the  death  of  EDGAR  ALLAN 
POE,  before  the  lifeless  corpse  had  become 
cold  in  the  grave,  an  enemy,  an  avowed 
<n td  personal  enemy,  and  who  became 
his  administrator  and  was  his  first  biogra 
pher,  made  haste  to  write  and  publish  the 
foul  calumny  and  falsehood  that  EDGAR 
ALLAN  POE  died  from  delirium  tremens  at 
some  unknown  and  out-of-the-way  lioxpitul  in 
Baltimore  City,  and  which  Mr.  George  Gra 
ham  pronounced  "an  immortal  infamy"  and 
declared  it  to  be  dastardly  and  false,  and 
"nothing  but  the  fancy  sketch  of  a  perverted, 
jaundiced  vision;"  and  strange  to  say  this 
man's  work,  Griswold's  Memoir  of  Edgar 
Allan  Poe,  though  repeatedly  denied  upon 
the  best  authority,  continued  to  be  much 
sought  after,  and  its  poisonous  effects  are  yet 
seen  and  felt  on  both  continents. 

I  have  entwd  upon  this  work  fully  pre- 
I  Kired,  with  living  testimony,  legally  indorsed, 
in  proof  of  all  that  I  shall  say  in  relation  to 
the  life,  character,  and  death  of  the  poet. 
I  am  frank  to  acknowledge  that  much  that 
I  shall  say  will  not  be  new  in  regard  to  his 
family  history.  I  shall  repeat  much  that 
has  been  written  by  able  writers,  but  I  de- 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  23 

sire,  and  shall  endeavor  to  give  credit  to 
such  authorities  as  I  shall  quote,  and  hope  to 
introduce  many  facts  and  incidents  that 
have  not  been  generally  known.  I  have  in 
my  possession  much  that  will  be  publicly 
made  known  for  the  first  time.  These  come 
from  the  nearest  relatives,  given  to  me  by 
those  who  were  nearest  and  dearest  to  him, 
and  from  one  who  loved  him  as  she  did  her 
own  life. 

Mr.  David  Foe,  the  great  grandfather  of 
EDGAR  ALLAN  POE,  with  his  family  resided 
in  Baltimore  and  was  engaged  in  mercan 
tile  business.  During  the  Kevolution  Mr. 
David  Poe  became  a  deputy  quartermaster 
of  the  Maryland  line,  and  had  often  been 
called  Major  and  sometimes  General  Poe. 
He  occupied  for  his  quartermaster's  office  a 
part  of  the  old  building  on  Baltimore  street, 
near  Charles,  which  was,  a  few  years  ago, 
occupied  by  Armstrong,  Cater  &  Co.  The 
building  was  owned  by  Poe,  and  it  was  at  this 
office  that  he  received  General  Lafayette. 
Count Rocliantbeau,  Count  DeGrruxse  and  other 
French  officers.  When  the  troops  of  our  revo 
lutionary  ally,  General  Lafayette,  were  in  this 
vicinity,  long  after  the  French  had  departed. 


24  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

cuirasses  or  breast-plates  of  metal  and  bridle- 
bits  of  lignum-vitae  wood  were  found  in  the 
cellars  of  the  buildings,  and  were  prized  as 
souvenirs  of  the  war.  In  this  connection  it 
may  be  interesting,  as  a  scrap  of  history  con 
nected  with  the  Poe  family,  to  state  that  in 
X  ties'  Register,  October  23, 1824,  is  recorded  a 
visit  of  the  nation's  guest,  General  Lafayette, 
to  Baltimore,  in  which  the  following  grateful 
remembrance  appears : 

After  an  introduction  of  the  surviving  oflic.ers  and  soldiers  of  the 
Revolution  who  resided  in  and  near  Halt  inn  ire  to  the  <  ieneral,  lie  observed 
to  one  of  the  .uvntleinen  present,  "  I  have  not  yet  seen,  among  these 
gentlemen,  my  friendly  and  patriotic  commissary?'  The  (ieneral  was 
informed  that  Mr.  David  Poe  was  then  dead,  but  his  widow  was  still  living. 
He  expressed  an  anxious  wish  to  see  her.  Said  the  (ieneral:  "Mr. 
David  Poe,  who  resided  in  IJaltimore  when  1  was  here,  had,  out  of  his 
own  very  limited  means,  supplied  me  with  five  hundred  dollars  to  aid 
in  clothing  my  troops,  and  his  ?.•'//<',  with  her  own  /minis,  cut  on/  500 
pairs  of  pantaloons,  and  superintended  the  making  of  tlieni  for  I  lie  use  of  mv 
men ." 

The  Register  further  states  that  when  the 
good  old  lady  heard  the  intelligence  she  shed 
tears  of  joy,  and  the  next  day  was  visited  by 
tli<>  (re HP r(i -I,  whom  sit e  most  gladly  received,  and 
the  rlsit  vw.s  most  <j  rate-fully  appreciated,  &c. 
The  General,  on  his  visit  to  Mrs.  Poe,  was 
escorted  by  a  company  of  horse,  and  spoke 
in  grateful  terms  of  the  kind  and  friendly 
assistance  he  had  received  from  herself  and 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  25 

husband.  "Your  husband/7  said  he,  pressing 
his  hand  upon  his  breast,  "was  my  friend, 
and  the  aid  I  received  from  you  both  was 
most  beneficial  to  me  and  my  troops." 

Mr.  David  Poe,  Jr.,  son  of  Gen.  David  Poe, 
of  revolutionary  memory,  was  the  father  of 
EDGAR  ALLAN  POE,  who  was  born  in  Boston 
on  January  19,  1809.  The  citizens  of  three 
respective  cities  have  claimed  for  themselves 
his  place  of  birth,  viz.:  Boston,  Baltimore 
and  Richmond.  But  it  is  generally  conceded 
and  believed  that  Boston  is  entitled  to  the 
credit  and  honor  of  POE'S  having  drawn  his 
first  breath  in  that  city.  Very  soon  there 
after  his  parents  removed  to  Eichmond. 
General  Poe  designed  his  son  David,  the 
father  of  Edgar,  for  the  law,  and  placed  him 
in  the  office  of  Win.  Guinn,  Esq.,  Baltimore, 
for  the  prosecution  of  his  studies;  but  while 
a  student  he  became  fascinated  with  a  beau 
tiful  young  English  actress  whose  name  was 
Elizabeth  Arnold.  So  devotedly  attached  was 
he  to  this  charming  young  woman,  that  when 
little  more  than  eighteen  years  of  age  he 
eloped  with  her  and  was  married.  He  was 
disowned  by  his  parents  for  this  unwarranted 
step.  He  soon  adopted  his  wife's  profession 


26  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

and  went  on  the  stage.  In  a  few  months 
after  their  marriage,  and  after  the  birth  of 
their  first  child,  the  parents  of  David  relented, 
and  the  young  couple  returned  to  their  pa 
ternal  home,  where  they  were  cordially  re 
ceived.  The  time  allowed  for  acts  of  kind 
ness  and  sympathy  towards  these  erring 
children  was  of  short  duration. 

Soon  after  their  return  to  home  and  favor 
of  father  and  mother  they  left  the  paternal 
roof  to  follow  their  profession,  and  started  for 
Richmond,  Va.  In  1815  the  youthful  parents 
of  POE  died  within  a  few  weeks  of  each  other, 
from  consumption,  leaving  three  children, 
Henry,  EDGAR,  and  a  daughter  named  Rosa 
lie,  unprotected  and  unprovided  for.  On  the 
death  of  their  parents  EDGAR,  though  a 
mere  child,  was  adopted  by  Mr.  John  Allan, 
a  wealthy  citizen  of  Richmond,  who  was 
childless  and  whose  wife  became  passionately 
fond  of  the  beautiful  and  attractive  child. 
It  was  mainly  her  love  for  the  boy  that  led 
to  his  adoption  by  Mr.  Allan,  whose  name  he 
gave  to  EDGAR.  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  was  but 
six  years  old  when  adopted.  He  was  a  very 
pretty  child  and  noted  for  his  precocity.  Mr. 
Allan  was  fond  of  the  bov  and  treated  him 


EDGAR    ALLAN   POE,  27 

as  if  he  were  his  own  son.  Scarcely  had  the 
little  orphan  time  to  become  acquainted  with 
his  new  parents,  before  he  was  carried  by 
them  to  Europe.  It  was  in  this  wise,  in  1816, 
that  the  Allan  family  visited  England  on 
matters  pertaining  to  business,  taking  with 
them  their  adopted  son.  After  traveling 
through  England  and  Scotland,  they  placed 
him  at  the  Manor-house  school  in  Church 
street,  Newington.  He  was  placed  under 
the  care  and  instruction  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Bransby,  whom  the  poet  so  quaintly  describes 
in  II7///V////  IT/ /.so//,  which  is  considered  one 
among  his  best  stories.  Friendless  and  or 
phaned  as  he  was,  he  spent  a  happy,  if  not 
the  happiest,  part  of  his  life  in  this  sombre 
English  village.  Here  POE  remained  for 
nearly  five  years,  and  to  this  sequestered  spot 
he  looked  back  in  after  life  with  feelings  of 
pleasure  and  great  satisfaction,  if  not  with 
pride ;  and  to  the  trmning^ud^irection  given 
thpre  to  the  bent  w&tsmu^his  scholarly 
acquirements  are  chiefly  attributed. 
(/  In  1821  he  was  recalled  by  his  adopted  pa 
rents,  and  placed  by  them  at  an  academy  in 
Eichmond,  where  the  Allans  resided.  The 
boy  was  now  but  twelve  years  old.  Mr.  Allan 


28  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

had  by  this  time  become  so  much  attached  to 
Edgar  that  he  was  petted  and  apparently 
spoiled,  as  his  every  wish  was  gratified ;  but 
these  generous  acts  did  not  spoil  him,  but  left 
him  with  an  unnatural  sensitiveness  to  af 
fection  toward  those  who  desired  his  best 
good.  It  was  at  this  early  period  that  he 
manifested  his  gentleness  and  docility.  He 
was  willing  and  eager  to  be  taught,  and  exhib 
ited  a  kind  and  humane  disposition  toward 
all.  Toward  the  dumb  brute,  as  he  says 
of  himself,  "my  tenderness  of  heart  was  so 
well  known  as  to  make  me  the  jest  of  my 
companions."  This  tenderness  of  heart  and 
generous  nature  increased  with  his  growth 
and  strengthened  with  his  strength,  and  its 
beauty  and  fullness  were  developed  in  after 
life. 

In  1822  Mr.  Allan  placed  Edgar  at  the 
University  of  Charlottesville,  Va,  Here  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Clriswold,  the  writer  to  whom  I 
have  before  referred,  began  his  attack.  He 
charges  POE  with  having  been  dismissed 
from  the  university  for  habits  of  intemper 
ance  and  other  vices.  I  am  pleased  to  say 
that  these  false  charges  have  been  fully  re 
futed  by  the  president  and  secretary,  William 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  29 

Wertenbaker,  of  the  faculty,  whose  testi 
mony,  over  their  own  signatures,  I  now  pro 
duce.  Mr.  William  Wertenbaker,  the  secre 
tary,  indorsed  by  the  president,  Dr.  Stephen 
Maupiri,  as  being  worthy  of  confidence,  says 
in  his  letter  of  reply  to  the  charges  made : 
"There  is  nothing  on  the  records  of  the  fac 
ulty  to  the  prejudice  of  POE.  He  spent 
one  entire  session  at  the  university.  At  no 
time  did  he  fall  under  the  censure  of  the 
faculty,  and  he  was  not  known  to  be  addicted 
to  the  use  of  stimulants."  This  much  is  his 
tory  authenticated  and  published  in  his 
memoirs  and  confirmed  by  Dr.  G.  White  to 
me  in  person  a  few  months  ago  in  Richmond. 
He  said  to  his  friend  Dr.  White,  "  You  are 
acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  gentle 
men  with  whom  I  am  daily  associated;  you 
know  them  to  be  gentlemen,  well  educated 
and  highly  esteemed.  Their  habits  are  to 
take  a  glass  of  toddy  two  or  three  times  a 
day,  and  occasionally  to  be  intoxicated.  I 
have,  at  long  intervals,  participated  and  have 
sometimes  felt  its  effects,  but  I  paid  the  pen 
alty  by  four  or  five  days  in  bed.  I  could  not 
become  a  dram  drinker,  it  would  have  soon 
killed  me."  His  sensitive  nature  could  not 


30  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

endure  it.  His  mother-in-law,  Mrs.  Clemm, 
has  said  that  a  cup  of  strong  coffee  would 
intoxicate  him.  Dr.  Whyte  remarked  to  me, 
"  I  never  knew  POE  to  gamble  or  get  drunk. 
"We  all  played  cards  for  pastime  and  amuse 
ment,  and  we  sometimes  drank  wine,  but 
never  got  drunk  or  gambled  for  money. 
The  Doctor  was  a  student  with  POE  at 
Charlottesville  that  session, 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  follow  in  detail 
POE'S  history,  but  I  design  to  give  a  brief 
review  of  his  habits  of  life  in  respect  to  his 
indulgences  in  the  intoxicating  glass,  so  that 
you  may  be  better  able  to  determine  in  your 
minds  whether  he  was  the  debauchee  and  low 
character  as  charged  so  frequently  by  his 
enemies.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  understand 
me  as  saying  that  Mr.  POE  never  drank  ar 
dent  spirits  in  his  early  manhood,  or  that  he 
was  never  under  its  influence,  l)ut  I  hope  to 
be  able  to  so  strengthen  your  belief  in  the 
character  of  his  life  and  habits  as  well,  that 
you  will  unite  with  me  in  declaring  against 
the  wholesale  abuses  and  reiterated  slanders, 
as  a  tissue  of  gross  untruths  originating  in 
the  brain  of  a  designing  enemy.  In  the  lat 
ter  part  of  his  life,  four  years  previous  to  his 
death,  he  was  perfectly  temperate. 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  31 

Leaving  to  his  biographers  the  years  that 
intervene,  I  introduce  him  again  in  1829.  In 
this  year  he  returns  to  his  foster-father's 
home,  in  Eichmond,  in  the  latter  part  of 
March,  but  too  late  to  see  the  familiar  face 
and  receive  the  smile  of  welcome  from  his 
foster-mother ;  she  was  buried  the  day  before 
his  return. 

Of  this  melancholy  visit  the  poet  himself 
says : 

I  reached  my   home,  my  home  no  more, 

For  all  had  flown  who  made  it  so  ; 
I  passed  1'rom  out  its  mossy  door. 

And  tho'  my  tread  was  soft  and  low. 
A  voice  came  from  the  threshold  stone 

Of  one  whom  1  had  earlier  known. 

EDGAR  deeply  felt  her  loss  and  mourned  her 
death,  causing  him  to  express  to  Mr.  Allan 
a  wish  for  the  military  profession,  in  the  hope 
of  being  sent  away  from  home.  Mr.  Allan 
gratified  his  desire,  and  by  his  influence 
secured  him  a  position  in  the  Military  Acad 
emy  at  West  Point.  The  records  of  that  in 
stitution  show  that  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  was 
admitted  July  1,  1830. 

The  rigid  rules,  regulations,  and  restraints 
of  the  Academy  were  not  in  accord  with  the 
freedom  he  had  hitherto  enjoyed.  He  re- 


32  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

mained  but  a  short  time  under  their  control, 
and  returned  to  Mr.  AllaiVs  house  once  more, 
where  he  was  kindly  received  and  where  he 
remained  some  length  of  time,  long  enough, 
in  fact,  to  engage  himself  in  a  matrimonial 
alliance  with  the  love  of  his  childhood,  Miss 
Eoyster,  now  Mrs.  Shelton,  of  Richmond. 
She  was  a  sweet  young  lady  in  her  teens,  and 
he  but  two  years  her  senior.  She  was  his 
beautiful  "Annabel  Lee,"  and  lived  at  Rich 
mond,  his  "kingdom  by  the  sea."  Let  the 
poet  speak  for  himself  of  this  early  love: 


It  was  many  and  many  a  year  a.uo, 

In  a  kinirdorn  by  the  sea. 
Thai  a  maiden  there  lived  whom  vou  mav   know 

I>y  the  name  of  ANN.U'.KI.   LICK; 
And  this  maiden  she  lived  with  no  other  thought 

Than  to  love  and  he  loved  by  me. 

1  was  a  child  and  she  was  a  child, 

In  this  kingdom  by    the  sea  ; 
Hut  we  loved  with  a  love  that  was  more  than  love 

I  and  my  ANNAP.KI.  1 .1:1:: 
With  a  love  that  the  winded  seraphs  of  heaven 

Coveted  her  and  me. 

And  this  was  the  reason  that,  long  aiio. 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  bea, 
A  wind  blew  out  of  a  cloud,  chilling 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  33 


My  beautiful  AN.\,\r,Kj,  LKK; 
So  that  her  highborn  kinsman  came 

And  bore  her  away  from  me, 
To  shut  her  rip  in  a  sepulchre 

In  tin's  kingdom  by  the  sea. 

The  angels,  not  half  so  happy  in  heaven. 

Went  envying  her  and  me — 
Ye>! — that  was  the  reason  (,as  all  men  know, 

In  thi^  kingdom  by  the  sea  < 
That  the  wind  came  out  of  the  cloud  by  night, 

Chilling  and  killing  my  ANNA  I'.KI,  LKK. 

But  our  love  it  was  stronger  by  far  than  the  love 

Of  those  who  were  older  than  we — 

Of  many  far  wiser  than  we — 
And  neither  the  angels  in  heaven  above, 

Nor  the  demons  down  under  the  sea, 
Can  ever  dissever  my  sold  from  the  soul 

Of  the  beautiful  ANXAHKL  LKK; 

For  the  nidoii    never  beams,  without   brinuinu'  me   dream1- 

Of  the  beautiful  AXXAI-.KI,  LKK: 
And  the  stars  never  rise,  hut  I  feel  the  bright  eyes 

Of  the  beautiful  AXXM;I:L  LKK; 
And  so,  all  the  night-tide,  1  lie  down  by  the  side 
Of  my  darling — my  darling — my  life  and  my  bride. 

In  the  sepulchre  there  by  the  sea, 

In  her  tomb  bv  the  sounding  sea. 

"When  Mr.  Allan  became  a \vare  of  this  en 
gagement,  he  was  very  angry  and  did  all  in 
his  power  to  prevent  its  consummation, 
chiefly  on  account  of  EDGAR'S  youth. 

A  quarrel  ensued  and  the  poet,  unable  to 
submit  to  what  he  considered  unjust  and 


34  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

arbitrary  treatment  by  Mr.  Allan,  left  the 
house  with  the  intention  of  offering  his  serv 
ices  in  aiding  the  Poles  in  their  struggles 
against  Russia.  Many  accounts  are  given  as 
to  where  he  went.  A  recent  biographer 
assumes  to  have  ascertained  that  he  entered 
the  United  States  Army  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Edgar  A.  Perry ;  but  my  own  im 
pression  is  that  he  never  designed  to  be 
remote  from  his  first  love,  his  "Annabel 
Lee,'1  and  many  circumstances  warrant  this 
opinion.  His  brother  Henry's  action  may 
have  given  rise  to  this  report. 

It  was  only  last  summer,  during  an  inter 
view  with  Mrs.  Shelton,  that  I  learned  from 
her  the  strength  of  ;bhe  attachment  between 
the  poet  and  herself — in  plain  words,  how 
much  they  loved.  She  talked  freely  with 
me  of  their  childhood  and  riper  years  when 
they  were  in  each  other's  company.  She 
named  the  street  where  her  father  lived, 
and  said  that  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE'S  foster- 
parents  lived  in  the  house  on  the  opposite  cor 
ner.  "  We  spent  much  of  our  time  together 
when  we  were  children.  A  few  years  after 
Mr.  Allan  built  a  large  mansion  farther  up 
the  street,  about  four  squares  from  where 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  35 

we  stand."  She  seemed  to  be  thoughtful  and 
musing,  when  I  remarked,  "You  met  again  in 
the  years  when  you  began  to  know  more  of 
the  realities  of  life."  She  said,  "Yes,  but  you 
will  excuse  me.  I  am  lost  in  wonder  and 
amazement  at  the  singular  drama  now  being 
enacted.  Oh,  sir,  you  can  have  no  idea  of 
the  thoughts  that  have  so  crowded  upon  my 
memory  and  occupied  my  mind.  How  often 
I  have  wished  to  see  his  physician,  so  that  I 
could  learn  from  his  own  lips  Mr.  POE'S  dying 
words.  And  to  think  that  so  many  years 
after  his  death,  we  are  face  to  face,  reviewing 
his  life,  from  his  childhood  to  his  grave. 
All  this  I  have  anxiously  hoped  for  before 
I  should  die,  and  it  is  now  fulfilled."  The 
venerable  lady  then  put  her  handkerchief 
to  her  face  and  wept.  I  spent  four  hours  in 
her  company,  in  talking  of  POE'S  decease, 
comparing  notes  and  gathering  important 
facts  to  aid  in  my  defense. 

This  interview  with  one  immortalized  by 
the  poet's  song  I  shall  never  forget.  Our 
sympathies  were  in  unison,  and  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  tears  were  restrained.  I  am  happy  to 
say  that  Mrs.  Shelton  is  yet  living,  and 


36  EDGAK   ALLAN   POK. 

though  in  feeble  healtli  and  well  advanced 
in  years,  her  face  indicates  a  peaceful  mind 
and  a  joyous  hope  of  the  rest  beyond. 

POE  left  Richmond,  it  is  true,  but  doubtless 
with  the  hope  of  one  day  returning  again,  to 
take  to  his  bosom  the  idol  of  his  heart. 
Years  intervened,  but  her  image  never  left 
him,  waking  or  sleeping.  It  is  certain  that 
he  put  himself  in  a  position  as  near  to  his 
heart's  desire  as  was  discreet,  to  learn  some 
thing  regarding  her  and  his  foster-parent. 
He  learned  too  soon  the  sad  tidings  that  fell 
like  a  nightmare  upon  his  sensitive  nature, 
and  palsied  his  heart  and  gave  a  death-blow 
to  all  his  hopes  and  fond  anticipations.  He 
learned  that  Mr.  Allan  had  married  a  young 
woman,  the  beautiful  Miss  Patterson,  whom 
he  well  knew,  and  that  the  love  of  his  youth, 
Miss  Royster,  to  whom  he  had  plighted  his  af 
fections,  had  married  a  gentleman  of  wealth 
in  that  city,  named  Shelton. 

This  was  a  severe  blow  to  the  ardent  young 
poet.  Disappointed  and  dejected,  unfortu 
nate  in  almost  everything  he  had  previously 
undertaken,  many  less  sensitive  in  their 
natures  would  have  resorted  to  the  bowl  for 
relief.  Not  so  with  the  distressed  poet. 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  37 

Relying  upon  that  innate  spirit  of  indepen 
dence  which  possessed  his  soul,  he  determined 
now  to  devote  his  whole  mind  to  literature  for 
his  support.  He  sought  and  received  encour 
agement  by  his  active  brain  and  the  use  of 
his  never-failing  pen. 

In  the  year  1 8,'i;>  he  is  again  brought  promi 
nently  before  the  public  as  a  competitor  for 
two  prizes  offered  by  the  proprietor  of  the 
Hutn nlay  Vixitor,  published  in  Baltimore 
City,  for  the  best  prose  story  and  the  best 
poem.  The  poet  wrote  and  sent  to  the  com 
mittee  selected  to  award  the  prizes  six  of  his 
stories  and  the  poems  of  the  Coliseum .  The 
committee,  composed  of  eminent  professional 
and  literary  men,  after  a  critical  examina 
tion  of  a  mass  of  papers  received  from  nu 
merous  contributors,  decided  unanimously 
that  POE,  to  them  unknown,  was  entitled  to 
the  premiums  and  that  he  richly  deserved 
them. 

Not  contented  with  this  award,  the  adjudi 
cators  went  out  of  their  way  to  draw  up  and 
publish  the  following  flattering  critique  on 
the  merits  of  the  writings  submitted  by  POE: 

Amongst  the  prose  articles  \\en-  manv  of  various  and  distinguished 

turrit,  but  the  singular  torn-  and  beauty  of  those  sent  by  the  author  of 
the  "Tales  <»f  the  Kolio  (Tub"  leave  us  no  room  for  hesitation  in  that 


38  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

department.  We  have,  accordingly,  awarded  tin-  premium  to  a  talc 
entitled  the  "  MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle."  It  would  hardly  be  doing;  just 
ice  to  the  writer  of  this  collection  to  say  that  the  tale  we  have  chosen 
is  the  best  of  the  six  offered  hy  him.  We  cannot  refrain  from  saying 
that  the  author  owes  it  to  his  own  reputation,  as  well  as  to  the  gratifica 
tion  of  the  community,  to  publish  the  entire  volume,  "Tales  of  the  Folio 
Club."  These  tales  are  eminently  distinguished  by  a  wild,  vigorous  and 
poetical  imagination,  a  rich  style,  a  fertile  invention,  and  varied  and 
curious  learning. 

(Signed)  .JOHN   P.  KENNEDY. 

J.  II.   1!.  LATROHF. 

JAMFS  II.  M1FFFU. 

Mr.  Kennedy,  chairman,  of  the  committee, 
became  the  firm  friend  of  POE  and  continued 
so  to  be  until  his  death,  and  when  informed 
of  the  decease  he  declared  it  impossible  to 
credit  any  of  Griswold's  stories  of  the  poet's 
life. 

In  18-34  Mr.  Allan  died,  leaving  his  adopted 
son  no  part  of  his  great  wealth.  In  18:^ 
POE  engaged  with  a  Mr.  White,  of  Eichmond, 
who  had  commenced  the  publication  of  the 
Southern  Literary  Messenger  in  that  city. 
His  former  friend,  Mr.  Kennedy,  urged 
POE  to  send  something  to  the  Messenger  for 
publication. 

POE  did  as  he  was  desired  by  Mr.  Kennedy, 
and  it  so  pleased  Mr.  White  that  he  spoke  of 
it  in  the  highest  terms  in  the  next  number 
of  his  periodical. 

POE'S  reputation  grew  so  rapidly  that  Mr. 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  39 

White  gave  him  a  position  on  the  editorial 
staff  of  the  Messenger,  at  a  salary  of  one 
hundred  guineas  per  annum.  In  order  to 
give  his  entire  attention  to  the  duties  as 
sumed,  he  removed  to  Richmond,  where  the 
magazine  was  published.  During  the  year 
1836  POE  was  fully  installed  in  his  new 
relation  to  the  Messenger. 

It  was  in  Richmond,  among  his  own  kin 
dred,  that  he  met  his  "Lenore,"  his  cousin, 
Virginia  Cleinm,  the  daughter  of  his  father's 
sister,  Maria  Clemm.  She  reciprocated  his 
affections,  and  to  her  he  was  married.  She 
was  very  young  in  years,  and  from  predis 
position  was  soon  to  be  the  victim  of  pulmo 
nary  disease.  It  had  already  seized  her  for 
its  prey,  but  the  ardent  and  sincere  attach 
ment  for  his  choice  was  irresistible,  and  with 
but  little  of  this  world's  goods  and  a  small 
income  he  married  his  cousin.  Under  other  */ 
circumstances  a  better  help-meet  could  not 
easily  have  been  found,  or  one  better  calcu- 
lated  to  make  his  life  a  happy  one. 

In  1837  POE  left  the  Messenger  to  assist 
the  proprietors  of  the  New  York  Quarterly 
Review,  a  work  for  which  his  scholarly  ac 
quirements  rendered  him  eminently  quali 
fied.  It  is  proper  to  state  that  Mr.  White 


40  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

parted  with  POE  very  reluctantly,  with 
out  a  word  of  complaint,  and  with  no  accu 
sation  of  intemperance,  as  charged  hy  Gris- 
wold. 

POE  removed  to  New  York  with  his  family 
and  resided  on  Carmine  street,  and  up  to 
this  period  of  his  life  I  have  brought  the 
subject  of  my  lecture  without  one  change  of 
intemperance  made  by  his  accusers^Lother 
charges  that  have  not  been  disproved  by  the 
clearest  testimony  given  by  those  who  knew7 
him  personally  and  wely. 

I  will  take  the  liberty  of  presenting  addi 
tional  witnesses  to  testify  to  his  good  char 
acter.  I  am  permitted  to  introduce  the  Hon. 
Richard Hengist  Home,  of  London.  1  quote 
his  own  language : 

A  few  leading  features  onlv  can  be  sketched.  No  cunning  barrister 
preparing  un  important  brief;  no  great  actor  Studying  a  new  pan  :  no 
analvtic  chemist  seeking  to  establish  the  tact  of  a,  murder  by  discovery 
or  proof  of  blood  or  poison  in  some  unexpected  substance;  no  Dutch 
painter,  working  for  months  on  the  minute  finish  of  all  sorts  of  detail, 
in  the  background  as  well  as  the  foreground  of  his  picture,  ever  took 
more  pains  than  KIXJAR  ALLAN  I'OK  in  the  production  of  most  of  his 
principal  works.  Let  no  one  attempt  to  imitate  PoK  without  his  genius 
and  acquirements.  The  copyist  would  be  discovered  and  denounced  in 
an  instant. 

Let  me  introduce  a  gentleman  of  learning 
and  character,  a  citizen  of  New  York,  Mr. 
William  Gowans,  whose  testimony  is  in  di- 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE.  41 

rect  confirmation  of  the  fact  that  POE  was 
not  addicted  to  the  use  of  intoxicating  drink. 
He  said : 

I  will  give  you   my  opinion  of  this  gifted  bul  unfortunate  genius.     It 

mav  he  estimated  as  of  little  worth.  I>ui  il  has  this  merit,  it  comes  from, 
an  eye  and  ear  witness;  and  this,  it  must  he  remembered, is  the  highest 
le.u-al  evidence.  For  eiglit  months  one  house  contained  us  and  one  table 
fed  us.  During  tliat  time  1  saw  much  of  him  and  had  an  opportunity 
of  conversing  with  him  often,  and  I  must  say  thai  I  never  saw  him  the 
least  aHected  by  liquor,  nor  ever  descend  to  any  known  vice,  lie  was 
one  of  the  most  courteous  gentlemen  and  intelligent  companions  that  I 
have  met  during  my  baitings  and  joiirnevings  through  divers  divisions 
of  the  globe;  besides  he.  had  an  extra  inducement  to  be  a  good  husband, 
for  lie  had  a  wife  of  matchless  beauty  and  loveliness,  and  temper  and 
disposition  of  surpassing  sweetness,  and  was  as  much  devoted  to  him  and. 
his  everv  ink-rest  as  a  mother  is  to  her  lirst-born. 

This  gentleman  boarded  with  Mrs.  Clemm 
until  she  broke  up  housekeeping.  He  had 
every  opportunity  to  know  the  habits  of  POE. 

1  wish  now  to  introduce  the  testimony  of 
Mrs.  Osgood,  a  distinguished  lady,  to  show 
his  extreme  kindness  and  affection  for  his 
wife.  She  remarks: 

[  It  was  at  his  own  simple  yet  poetical  home  that  the  character  of  the 
poet  appeared  in  its  most  beautiful  light — playfully  aflectionale,  witty, 
and  at  times  wavward  as  a  pet  ted  child.  jFor  his  gentle;  and  idoli/ed  wife 
and  for  all  \vho  came-  he  had,  even  in  the-  midst  of  his  most  harassing 
duties,  a  kind  word,  a  pleasant  smile,  grateful  and  courteous  attention. 
At  his  desk,  beneath  the  romantic  picture  of  his  beloved  "Lenore."  lie 
would  sit  hour  after  hour,  patient,  assiduous  and  uncomplaining,  tracing 
in  exquisite  penmanship,  and  with  almost  superhuman  swiftness,  the 
lightning  thoughts,  the  rare  and  radiant  fancies  as  they  Hashed  through 
his  wonderful  and  ever-wakeful  brain. 


42  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

If  there  is  any  place  where  a  man  can  be 
seen  in  his  true  light  and  where  his  true  char 
acter  is  fully  displayed,  it  is  at  his  own  home. 

In  1838  POE  removed  to  Philadelphia, 
where  he  was  engaged  as  a  contributor  to 
the  Gentlemen'1  s  Magazine  of  that  city.  His 
talents  soon  produced  brilliant  effects,  and 
in  May,  1839,  he  was  appointed  to  the 
editorial  management  of  that  periodical. 
Towards  the  close  of  1840  Mr.  George  R. 
Graham,  owner  of  the  (1ad:et,  acquired  pos 
session  of  the  Gentlemen'.*  Mayazhie,  and 
merged  the  two  publications  in  a  new 
series  known  as  Graham'.*  Magazine.  Mr. 
Graham  was  only  too  willing  to  retain  the 
services  of  the  brilliant  editor,  and  found  his 
reward  in  so  doing. 

POE,  aided  by  the  liberality  of  his  em 
ployers,  in  a  little  while  increased  the  num 
ber  of  subscribers  to  the  magazine  from  five 
to  fifty  thousand.  He  continued  in  this 
capacity  until  near  the  close  of  1842,  at  which 
time  POE  resigned  the  position  of  joint  editor 
of  Graham*.*  Magazine. 

In  1843  the  Dollar  Magazine  offered  a  hun 
dred-dollar  prize  for  a  story,  which  was 
awarded  to  POE  for  his  tale  of  "The  Gold 
Bug." 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  43      ^ 

Iii  1844  the  poet  moved  to  Xew  York, 
whither  his  increasing  fame  had  already 
preceded  him,  and  where  he  now  entered 
congenial  society  and  a  fairer  and  better 
field  for  the  recognition  of  his  literary  abili 
ties.  It  is  generally  conceded  that  the  first 
journal  for  which  he  wrote  in  New  York  was 
the  Mirror,  a  daily  paper,  holding  the  posi 
tion  of  sub-editor  and  critic.  The  paper  at 
that  time  belonged  to  N.  P.  Willis  and  Gen. 
George  Morris.  During  the  whole  six  months 
that  POE  was  engaged  on  the  Mirror,  Mr. 
Willis  asserts  that  he  was  invariably  punc 
tual  and  industrious,  and  daily  at  his  desk 
from  nine  in  the  morning  until  the  evening- 
paper  went  to  press.  At  this  period  some  of 
POE' s  most  remarkable  productions  appeared, 
including  "The  Baven."  This  poem  first 
appeared  in  Coltotix  Anuvinni  Rerien-  for 
February,  1845,  It  was  also  printed  in  the 
evening  Mirror,  with  the  author's  name 
attached,  and  in  a  few  weeks  was  known 
throughout  the  United  States  and  in  Europe. 

His  name  and  fame  were  at  once  carried 
across  the  water,  drawing  warm  eulogies 
from  some  of  the  first  poets  and  critics  of 
the  old  world.  For  this  masterpiece  of 
genius,  which  Mr.  Ingraham  declares  has 


44  EDOAK   ALLAN   POE, 

probably  done  more  for  the  renown  of 
American  letters  than  any  single  literary 
performance,  Mr.  POE  received  the  pitiful 
sum  of  ten  dollars.  It  has  been  stated  that 
he  composed  "The  Raven17  while  in  a  fit  of 
delirium  tremens.  In  refutation  of  the  falsity 
of  this  charge,  I  have  the  testimony  of  a  lady 
of  intelligence  and  literary  culture,  the  wife 
of  a  distinguished  General,  formerly  of 
New  York,  who  assures  me  that  POE  com 
posed  "The  Raven"  while  at  her  father's 
house  in  that  city.  It  was  his  habit  when 
he  left  the  house  to  leave  the  manuscript  in 
the  old  iron  safe  belonging  to  this  lady's 
father.  She  declares  he  was  never  known 
to  taste  anything  intoxicating  while  he  was 
at  her  father's  house.  She  lived  at  home 
and  saw  POE  every  day. 

In  July,  1845,  the  entire  control  of  the 
Broadway  Journal  was  confided  to  POE.  Its 
owners  having  limited  capital  and  less  talent 
it  soon  came  to  nought.  During  his  control 
of  the  Broadway  Journal,  POE'S  labors  were 
great  and  extremely  severe ;  enough,  indeed, 
to  destroy  the  brain  of  almost  any  other 
man.  He  made  it,  while  under  his  manage 
ment,  the  best  cheap  literary  paper  that  was 
published  at  that  day.  In  the  winter  of 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  45 

5 -'4(5,  Mr.  POE  was  a  favorite  in  the  liter 
ary  circles  of  our  great  commercial  metrop 
olis,  as  was  also  his  young  and  beautiful 
wife.  His  love  and  devotion  to  his  wife,  to 
which  I  have  already  referred,  was  a  sort  of 
rapturous  worship.  Of  this  charming  feat 
ure  of  FOE'S  character,  Mr.  Graham  says : 

I  have  seen  him  hovering  around  her  when  she  was  ill,  \viih  all  the 
fondness  and  tender  anxiety  of  a  mother  for  her  babe.  Her  slightest 
eou^h  would  cause  him  a  shudder— a  heart  (/hill  that  could  be  seen. 
It  was  this  hourly  anticipation  of  losing  her  that  made  him  a 
sid  and  thoughtful  man,  and  lent  a  mournful  melodv  to  his  undving1 
son.tr.  It  was  for  his  dear  wile's  sake  that  I 'OK  left  the  city  of  New 
York.  Ill  health,  want  of  worldly  knowledge,  a  sick  and  dying  wife 
to  distract  him,  all  combined  to  overpower  his  eflbrts,  and  for  her  sake 
and  to  secure  for  her  peace  and  quiet,  he  left  the  busy,  bustling  city, 
retired  to  a  small  Dutch  cottage  in  the  quiet  town  of  Fordham.  \Vest- 
chester  County,  New  York.  Here  he  passed  with  her  the  three  remain 
ing  years  of  her  life. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1846  that  POE 
removed  his  dying  wife  to  the  quietude  of 
Fordham.  Here  I  desire  also  to  quote  the 
language  of  Mrs.  Whitman  to  corroborate 
the  statements  already  made  regarding  POE'S 
habits,  gentleness,  and  sincere  devotion  to 
his  wife.  Mrs.  Whitman  had  frequently 
visited  his  wife  at  their  peaceful  home,  and 
she  says : 

The  noblest  memorial  yet  raised  to  his  memory  was  his  undying-  de 
votion  to  his  dear  "  Lenore."  There  in  loneliness  and  privation,  through 
many  solitary  hours,  in  the  bleak  and  dreary  days  and  nights  of  .Janu 
ary,  1847,  he  watched  her  failing  breath — 


46  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

Till  at  length,  one  day  in  that  cheerless  month, 

An  anu'el  eame  t'roiu  the  blest  afar 
To  bear  her  deathless  spirit  through  the  golden  irates  ajar. 

The  dear  wife  of  his  bosom  had  passed 
away,  and  in  some  slight  degree  I  did  real 
ize  his  distress  of  mind  and  sorrow  of  heart 
in  his  own  dying  words  as  I  held  his  hand  at 
his  death-bed.  He  cried  out  in  language  so 
pathetic,  with  heart  all  torn  and  bleeding, 
"Oh,  my  dear  Lenore,  my  dear  Leiiore!  how 
long  before  I  shall  see  my  dear  Virginia!" 
impatient  to  depart  and  be  with  her  at  rest. 

The  poet's  grief  for  his  lost  wife  was  so 
great  that  he  became  very  melancholy  and 
reticent ;  moving  about  the  house  in  appar 
ent  listlessness  and  indifference.  This  state 
of  mental  distress  lasted  for  weeks,  but 
through  the  kind  attentions  and  encouraging- 
words  of  his  dear  "Muddle,"  as  he  called  his 
mother-in-law,  Mrs.  Clemm,  he  gradually 
regained  his  wonted  vigor  of  mind  and  body 
and  resumed  hi  s  work .  W  ith  no  com  p a  1 1  i  <  >  n 
but  Mrs.  Clemm,  he  remained  at  his  quiet 
home,  musing  over  the  memory  of  his  lost 
"Lenore,"  and  thinking  out  the  crowning 
work  of  his  life. 

Here  he  remained  for  one  whole  year. 
gradually  receiving  friend  after  friend,  and 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE.  47 

devoting  his  best  energies  to  the  completion 
of  his  "  Eureka."  At  the  close  of  this,  the 
most  immemorial  year  of  his  life,  he  wrote 
his  "Ulalume." 

Early  in  1848  he  determined  to  make  an 
effort  once  more  to  start  a  magazine  of  his 
own.  To  raise  funds  for  this  purpose  he  an 
nounced  his  intention  of  delivering  a  series 
of  lectures  in  the  places  where  he  had  the 
greatest  number  of  intimate  friends,  hoping 
to  receive  from  them  subscriptions  to  sup 
port  his  enterprise.  The  place  at  which  he 
designed  and  whore  he  expected  to  obtain 
his  largest  support  was  Richmond.  He  is 
sued  a  prospectus  and  started  North,  deliv 
ering  his  first  lecture  in  the  library  of  the 
New  York  Historical  Society.  He  lectured 
also  in  Boston  and  Lowell.  Not  obtaining 
the  necessary  number  of  subscribers  to  start 
his  journal  on  a  solid  basis,  he  abandoned 
the  enterprise,  returned  to  Fordham  and  re 
sumed  work  on  his  "Eureka." 

In  the  summer  of  1841)  he  again  visited 
Richmond,  his  former  visit  having  been  for 
the  purpose  of  engaging  in  business  with  a 
new  firm,  in  which  a  lady  was  interested, 
one  whom  he  had  known  in  former  years 
and  who  was  in  possession  of  means  sufficient 


48  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

to  successfully  establish  a  magazine.  She 
was  now  a  widow. 

The  first  visit  was  in  the  month  of  October, 
1848.  Whether  by  accident  or  design  I  do 
not  know,  but  I  do  know,  as  [  received  it  from 
the  lady  herself  a  short  time  ago,  that  it 
was  during  that  visit  to  Richmond  that  she 
saw  him,  for  the  first  time,  since  she  had 
become  a  widow,  and  that  it  was  in  the 
autumn  of  the  year  and  the  month  of  Octo 
ber,  1848,  that  he  first  met  her  since  he  had 
become  a  widower.  In  the  summer  of  1849 
POE  took  final  leave  of  his  home  and  friends 
at  Fordham.  These  were  the  friends  who 
stood  by  him  during  his  severest  trials  and 
afflictions,  among  them  being  his  mother-in- 
la  \v.  Mrs.  ( -lemm.  She  had  been  his  guardian 
and  guide,  and  had  cared  for  him  as  only  a 
mother  could  do.  I  give  the  statement  of 
one  of  his  truest  friends  and  nearest  neigh 
bors,  and  one  who,  with  his  family,  was 
more  intimate  with  him  than  almost  any 
other,  being  together  for  more  than  four 
years,  as  additional  evidence  in  refutation  of 
the  stories  and  calumnies  charged  against 
POE.  I  allude  to  Mr.  S.  P.  Lewis. 

Mr.  Lewis  says : 

My  wife  and  I  often  visited  him  during  the  last  illnc»  fl'hi.-  \\ife.Hiul 
attended  her  luneral :  and  when  I '»>!•:  finally  took  his  departure  for  the 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  49 

South,  the  kiaeing  and  hand-shaking  were  at  my  front  door.  He  was 
hopeful,  \V(.-  wore  sad,  and  tears  gushed  in  torrents  as  he  kissed  liis 
"Muddle''  and  my  wife  "good-bye,"  Mrs.  ( 'leinin  predicting  a  final 
adieu. 

Mr.  Lewis  continues : 

PoE  WAS  one  of  the  most  atlectionate  and  kind-hearted  men  I  ever 
knew.  I  never  witnessed  so  mneli  tender  affection  and  devoted  love  as 
existed  in  that  family  of  three  persons,  i  have  spent  weeks  in  the 
elo>est  intimacy  with  I'oi-:,  and  never  saw  him  under  the  slightest  infln- 
enee  oi'  any  stimulant  whatever.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  most  abstemious 
and  exemplary  man.  Our  acquaintance  was  made  in  the  year  1S4'">  and 
continued  until  the  summer  of  1840,  when  he  left  for  the  South. 

This  gentleman  gives  a  candid  and  truthful 
account  of  POE  for  four  years,  from  1845  to 
1849. 

Allow  me  here  to  present  to  you  the  decla 
ration  and  earnest  appeal  made  to  High 
Heaven,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  by  POE, 
in  a  letter  to  a  personal  friend,  and  at  the 
time  and  in  the  face  of  these  calumnious 
charges,  i  refer  to  his  letter  to  Dr.  Snod- 
grass,  of  Baltimore,  recently  published  in  the 
Baltimore  Awer-icd-H.  He  said  to  the  Doctor: 

1  now  thank  you  for  your  defense  of  myself  as  stated.  You  are  a 
physician,  and  I  presume  no  physician  can  have  difficulty  in  detecting 
the  drunkard  at  a  glance  ;  you  are,  moreover,  a  literary  man  well  read 
in  morals;  you  will  never  he  brought  to  believe  that  1  could  write  what 
f  daily  write,  as  1  write  it.  if  I  were  a  drunkard.  In  (in< 
before  God,  the  solemn  isor<j  of  a  gentleman,  that  1  am  temperate  even  to 
rigor;  nothing  stronger  than  water  ever  passes  my  \\\^.  \  iuive  now 
only  to  repeat  to  yon  in  general,  my  solemn  assurances,  that  my  habits 
are  as  far  removed  from  intemperance  as  the  day  is  from  the  night.  My 
sole  drink  is  water.  Will  you  do  me  the  kindness  to  repeat  this  assur- 


50  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

a  nee  to  such  of  our  own  friends  as  happen  to  speak  of  me  in  your  hear 
ing?  I  feel  that  nothing  more  is  requisite,  and  yon  will  airree  with  me 
on  reflection. 

ICIMJAR   ALLAN    I'OK. 


I  here  aver  that  there  is  no  evidence  and 
never  has  been,  that  POE  ever  was  seen 
drunk,  or  that  he  ever  got  drunk  from  the 
year  1845  to  1849,  embracing  a  period  of 
four  years.  Later  he  confesses  to  the  effect 
of  stimulants  at  long  intervals,  but  of  these 
four  years  preceding  his  death,  we  have  the 
clearest  testimony  that  he  was  a  temperate 
man. 

He  was  a  member  of  a  temperance  associa 
tion,  at  Richmond,  and  delivered  two  lectures 
upon  the  subject  in  that  city,  to  each  of 
which  his  "Annabel  Lee11  accompanied  him, 
as  she  did  to  all  other  lectures  delivered  by 
him  in  that  city.  After  he  had  been  in 
Richmond  a  few  months,  it  was  rumored  he 
was  to  be  married  to  Mrs  Shelton,  his  "An 
nabel  Lee,'1  to  whom  he  was  engaged  in  his 
youth,  when  she  was  Miss  Royster.  I  have 
the  testimony  from  the  pen  of  the  lady  her 
self,  written  to  me  thirty-two  years  ago,  of 
the  fact,  and  from  her  own  lips  in  June  last, 
that  she  was  engaged  Jto  he  married  to  POE 
at  the  time  of  his  death.  Mrs.  Shelton  de 
clares  that  he  was  the  most  courteous  gentle- 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  51 

man  she  had  ever  known ;  that  no  one  could 
be  in  his  company  and  not  be  benefited  by  it? 
and  above  all  that  he  was  super-sensitive  to 
a  fault  at  anything  that  would,  in  the  most 
remote  degree,  offend  a  lady.  He  inspired 
all  with  whom  he  had  business  intercourse 
or  dealings  of  any  kind  with  an  affectionate 
esteem,  such  as  you  would  feel  for  a  near 
friend  or  a  dear  relative. 

I  feel  that  I  have  trespassed  too  long  upon 
the  kind  forbearance  of  my  readers  in  this 
brief  history  of  the  poet.  I  may  have  been 
tedious  in  the  presentation  of  so  large  an 
amount  of  testimony  in  refutation  of  the 
false'  charges  made  against  his  good  name., 
and  the  only  apology  I  can  offer  is  the  inter 
est  I  feel  in  my  theme  and  my  desire  to  se 
cure  a  generous  judgment.  Is  it  not  impos 
sible  for  one  who  labored  so  assiduously  with 
brain  and  pen,  by  day  and  by  night,  through 
all  the  disastrous  circumstances  surrounding 
him  and  the  misfortunes  that  fell  to  his 
unhappy  lot,  to  produce  those  masterpieces 
which  fill  bulky  volumes,  poems  of  exquisite 
beauty,  stories  of  weird  and  fascinating 
splendor,  and  critiques  that  are  in  all  re 
spects  among  the  finest  in  our  literature, 
and  these  productions,  amidst  the  drudge- 


52  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

ries  of  editorial  routine,  on  periodicals  and 
weekly  papers,  at  times  when  he  was  physi 
cally  exhausted  by  watching  over  the  bed 
side  of  his  dying  wife,  whose  life  was  one 
long  disease '.     Is  it  possible,  I  ask,  that  a 
drunkard  could  have  done  all  this?    No,  no. 
The  constancy  of  his  labors  and  the  demand 
upon  his  brain  and  time,  up  to  a  short  period 
before  his  death,  at  which  time  he  produced 
the  crowning  work  of  his  life,  his  "Eureka," 
forbid  the   supposition.      But  if  to  take  a 
glass  of    wine  or   brandy    with    convivial 
friends,  at  long  intervals,  which  he  confesses 
to  have  done  and  to  have  felt  its  effects  in 
his  earlier  manhood,  is  to  brand  a  man  with 
the  name  of  "drunkard,11  blast  his  character 
and  reputation,  I  say  to  his  revilers  and  per 
secutors,  "Let  him  that  is  without  sin  cast 
the  first  stone.11     Until  then  let  the  death 
slumber  of  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  be  quiet  in 
his  tomb,  and  let  his  ashes  rest  in  peace. 
But  have  these  cruel  calumnies  fallen   upon 
the  unfortunate  poet  alone?    No.     Many  of 
his  friends   have   felt  them   most    keenly. 
One  yet  lives,  now  in  her  seventy-third  year, 
who  loved  him  in  life,  sympathized  with  him 
in  his  afflictions,  wept  and  mourned  for  his 
untimely  death,  and  with  grief  and  tears  of 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  53 

.sorrow  will  go  down  to  the  grave  lamenting 
the  sad  fate  of  him  who  was  dearer  to  her 
than  life  itself.  She  has  suffered  and  felt, 
as  only  a  pure  and  sensitive  woman  can  feel, 
not  only  her  great  loss,  but  the  cruel  and 
unjust  assault  upon  the  memory  of  him  she 
loved. 

In  closing  this  part  of  my  narrative,  I  am 
constrained  to  ask  your  indulgence  while  I 
present  some  remarks  of  Mr.  George  Graham 
in  defense  of  POE.  I  do  this  at  the  request 
and  earnest  desire  of  Mrs.  Clemm,  and  in. 
compliance  with  a  promise  made  to  her 
years  ago.  Mr.  Graham  says: 

For  three  or  four  years  1  knew  I'oi:  intimately.  ;ui<l  for  cinliUen 
months  1  sa\v  him  almost  daily;  much  of  the  time  writing  or  conversing 
ut  the  same  desk ;  knowing  all  his  hopes,  as  well  as  his  hard  struggle 
with  adver-e  fate;  yet  he  was  always  the  same  polished  gentleman,  the 
quiet,  unobtrusive,  thoughtful  scholar,  the  devoted  husband;  frugal  in 
his  personal  expense^,  punctual  and  unwearied  in  hi-  indiMry,  and  the 
soul  of  honor. 

The  poet  himself  made  this  solemn  decla 
ration  to  a  personal  friend:  k'By  the  God 
who  reigns  in  heaven,  I  swear  to  you  that 
my  soul  is  incapable  of  dishonor.  I  can  call 
to  mind  no  act  of  my  life  which  would  bring 
a  blush  to  my  cheek.11 

I  come  now  to  the  closing  scenes  of  the 
life  of  the  long-lamented  and  deceased  poet. 


54  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

it  is  with  the  last  sixteen  hours  of  his  life 
that  I  have  especially  to  do.  This  is  my 
mission  and  the  duty  I  am  called  upon  to 
perform.  They  are  the  hours  that  have  been 
shrouded  with  so  much  mystery,  and  in  re- 
gard  to  w^hich  so  many  false  statements  have 
been  made. 

After  twenty-five  years  I  was  called  upon 
as  his  physician.  I  was  supposed  to  know"  at 
least  the  date  of  his  decease,  and  as  a  monu 
ment  was  about  being  placed  to  his  memory 
in  Baltimore  it  became  necessary  that  I 
should  be  consulted.  I  was  applied  to  for 
the  necessary  date.  I  cheerfully  gave  it,  and 
the  same  was  cut  upon  the  monument  so 
creditable  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  whose 
philanthropic  hearts  moved  them  to  secure 
this  memorial  to  the  genius  and  worth  of 
the  dead  poet.  It  is  hoped  that  if  I  was  suf 
ficient  authority  for  this  record,  that  I  may 
receive  corresponding  confidence  from  my 
readers  in  the  statements  I  make. 

Permit  me  to  ask  at  your  hands  the  con 
fidence  you  would  give  to  any  respectable 
physician  making  a  statement  respecting  a 
deceased  patient  who  was  in  his  care  for 
sixteen  hours  before  his  death.  I  cannot  but 
believe  that  you  will  accord  this  measure  of 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  55 

confidence  to  one  who  saw,  handled  and 
watched  over  his  patient,  cared  for  him,  con 
versed  with  him,  and  received  his  dying 
statement. 

I  have  stated  to  you  the  fact  that  EDGAR 
ALLAN  POE  did  not  die  under  the  effect  of 
any  intoxicant,  nor  was  the  smell  of  liquor 
upon  his  breath  or  person.  He  AVMS  in  my 
care  and  under  my  charge  for  sixteen  hours. 
He  was  sensible  mid  rational  fifteen  hours 
out  of  the  sixteen.  He  answered  promptly 
and  correctly  all  questi<  m  ,s  asked,  spoke  freely, 
and  made  certain  statements,  and  gave  cer 
tain  directions  to  whom  I  should  write,  and 
a  confession  of  what  related  to  himself,  his 
mother-in-law,  and  the  lady  to  whom  he  was 
to  have  been  married.  He  told  me,  in  an 
swer  to  my  questions,  where  he  had  been, 
from  whence  he  came,  and  for  which  place 
he  started  when  he  left  Richmond,  when 
he  arrived  in  Baltimore,  and  the  name  of  the 
hotel  where  he  registered,  from  which  I 
received  his  trunk  before  his  death.  The 
names  of  the  ladies  to  whom  he  requested 
me  to  write  were  given,  and  their  answers 
to  my  letters  after  his  death  came  speedily 
and  are  with  me  now. 

It  has  been  charged  that  POE  was  made 


50  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

drunk  and  then  "cooped,"  and  voted  a  num 
ber  of  times  at  an  election  held  in  Baltimore 
about  that  time.  This  charge  I  unhesitat 
ingly  deny.  One  word  will  demonstrate  its 
falsity.  That  election  was  held  October  3d, 
the  day  before  POE  left  Eichmond,  and  he- 
was  not  in  Baltimore  until  October  5th.  He 
was  brought  to  the  Washington  College  Uni 
versity  Hospital  on  October  0,  1849,  about 
9  o'clock  A.  M.  and  died  between  12  and  1 
o'clock  on  October  7th. 

His  biographers  all  agree  that  he  left  Rich 
mond  on  October  4th,  but  affirm  that  when 
he  landed  in  Baltimore  he  was  caught,  cooped, 
drugged,  voted,  and  then  turned  upon  the 
streets  to  die:  that  someone  sa\\;  him  who 
knew  him  and  brought  him  to  the  hospital 
<\t  night  in  an  unconscious  state,  and  that  he 
died  before  morning  with  inflammation  of 
the  brain,  being  insensible  until  his  death. 
It  is  true  that  POE  left  Richmond  on  October 
4,  1849.  not  by  train  but  by  boat.  There 
was  DO  railroadfrom  Richmond  to  Baltimore. 
I  have  the  evidence  and  the  proof  from  Mrs. 
Shelton,  his  affianced,  that  the  poet  parted 
from  her  at  her  residence  at  4  P.  M.  October 
4th,  to  take  the  steamer  "Columbus"  for  Bal 
timore,  intending  to  visit  Philadelphia  and 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  57 

New  York,  to  close  up  some  business  he  had 
with  certain  publishers  and  return  to  Rich 
mond  in  a  few  days.  She  states  that  when 
he  said  "good-bye,"  he  paused  a  moment  as 
if  reflecting,  and  then  said  to  her:  "I  have 
a  singular  feeling,  amounting  to  a  presenti 
ment,  .that  this  will  be  our  last  meeting  until 
we  meet  to  pa.rt  no  more,''  and  then  walked 
slowly  and  sadly  away.  What  a  sorrowful 
prophecy  was  there  in  those  parting  words, 
and  how  fearfully  was  it  fulfilled. 

Of  the  first  meeting  and  the  last  farewell, 
the  illustrious  poet  sings  in  his  wonderful 
poem,  "Ulalume:" 

The  skies  they  were  asheii  and  sober, 
The  leaves  they  were  crisped  and  sere; 

It  was  night  in  the  lonesome  October 
Of  my  most  immemorial  year. 

( )nr  talk  had  been  serious  and  sober. 

lint  our  thoughts  they  were  palsied  and  sere, 
Our  memories  were  treacherous  and  sere, 

For  we  knew  not  the  month  was  October, 
And  we  marked  not  the  night  of  the  year. 

Then  my  heart  it  grew  ashen  and  sober, 
As  the  leaves  that  were  crisped  and  sere, 
As  the  leaves  that  were  withering  and  sere. 

And  I  cried,  it  was  surely  October, 
On  this  very  night  of  last  year, 
That  1  journeyed,  I  journeyed  down  here. 

It  was  in  October  that  he  first  saw  her 


58  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

when  a  widow  ;  it  was  on  October  4th  that  he 
left,  to  see  her  face  no  more  on  earth;  and  it 
was  on  October  7th  when  he  died. 

The  boat  arrived  in  Baltimore  about  4 
o'clock  011  the  morning  of  October  5th.  It- 
landed  at  its  dock  on  the  corner  of  Pratt  and 
Light  streets.  -  POE  started  for  the  hotel  on 
Pratt  street,  north  side,  opposite  the  Phila 
delphia  depot,  called  "Bradshaw's,"  now 
"  The  Maltby  House."  A  colored  man  from 
the  boat  went  with  him  and  carried  his 
trunk.  He  left  for  Philadelphia  about  noon 
and  went  as  far  as  the  Susquehanna  Biver, 
across  which  the  passengers  had  to  be  trans 
ferred  by  boat,  there  being  no  bridge  at  that 
time.  The  river  being  very  rough,  owing  to 
a  storm  then  .blowing,  POE  refused  to  venture 
across.  He  remained  on  the  cars  and  re 
turned  to  Baltimore.1  Arriving  there  at 
about  8  o'clock  P.  M..  a  porter  carried  his 
trunk  to  the  hotel  he  had  left  in  the  morning. 
Alighting  from  the  cars  he  turned  down 
Pratt  street,  on  the  south  side,  and  walked 
toward  the  dock  where  his  boat  was.  He 
was  followed  by  two  suspicious  characters, 
as  the  testimony  of  the  conductor  will  show, 
{•iid  when  he  reached  the  southwest  corner 
Pratt  and  Light  streets,  he  was  seized  by 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE,  59 

the  two  roughs,  dragged  into  one  of  the  many 
sinks  of  iniquity  or  gambling  hells  which 
lined  the  wharf.  He  was  drugged,  robbed, 
stripped  of  every  vestige  of  the  clothing  he 
had  on  when  he  left  Richmond  and  the  cars 
a  little  while  before,  and  reclothed  with  a 
stained,  faded,  old  bombazine  coat,  panta 
loons  of  a  similar  character,  apair  of  worn-out 
shoes  run  down  at  the  heels,  and  an  old  straw 
hat.  Later  in  this  cold  October  night  he 
was  driven  or  thrown  out  of  the  den  in  a 
semi-conscious  state,  and  feeling  his  way  in 
the  darkness,  he  stumbled  upon  a  skid  or 
long  wide  board  lying  across  some  barrels  on 
the  wTest  side  of  the  wharf,  about  thirty  yards 
from  the  den,  IL  I  indeed  fared  as  did  one 
of  old.  He  had  fallen  among  thieves,  who 
stripped  him  of  his  raiment  and  departed, 
leaving  him  half  dead.  He  stretched  him 
self  upon  the  plank  and  lay  there  until  af  bn- 
daybreak  on  the  morning-  of  the  ^tL.  A 
gentleman,  passing  by,  noticed  the  man,  anil 
on  seeing  his  face  recognized  the  Tpoet.  He 
called  a  hack,  and  giving  the  driver  a  plain 
card  with  my  address,  and  on  the  lower 
right-hand  corner  the  name  of  POE,  the  poet 
was  carried  to  the  hospital,  arriving  there 
about  9  o'clock. 


60  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

I  had  him  placed  in  a  small  room  in  the 
turret  part  of  the  building  where  patients 
were  put  who  had  been  drinking  freely. 
The  room  can  be  recognized  in  the  cut  by 
the  star.  He  was  clad  in  the  shabby  suit  I 
have  described,  and  being  unconscious  I  had 
him  put  in  the  place  indicated,  not  knowing 
at  HIM!  momrnt  the  cause  of  his  distress.  I 
now  know  that  he  was  perfectly  sober  when 
he  returned  to  the  city. 

MY  witnesses  are  Judge  N.  Poe,  of  Balti 
more,  a  second  cousin  of  the  poet;  and  the 
conductor  of  the  train.  Capt.  George  W.  Rol 
lins,  well-known  in  Baltimore.  The  follow 
ing  testimony  was  given  to  me  by  the  con 
ductor  a  few  days  after  the  poet's  death : 
Meeting  him  on  the  street  he  said,  "I  saw 
in  the  papers  the  death  of  the  gentleman  I 
had  011  my  train  the  other  day."  I  asked,  u  Do 
you  know  who  he  was  '."  He  said  he  did  not 
at  that  time,  but  he  had  learned  since  that 
it  was  EDGAR  P<  >K.  He  remarked  that  he  was 
the  finest  specimen  in.  appearance  of  a  gen 
tleman  that  he  had  lately  seen.  "  I  was  at 
tracted  to  him  from  his  appearance."  I  said, 
u  Captain,  how  was  he  dressed?"  He  replied, 
"In  black  clothes  ;  his  coat  was  buttoned  up 
close  to  his  throat.  There  were  two  men 


EDGAR   ALLAN    FOE.  01 

well  dressed  that  came  aboard  of  the  train 
from  the  other  side  of  the  river,  having  come 
from  Philadelphia  or  New  York.  They  took 
a  seat  back  of  POE.  From  their  appearance  I 
k|iew  they  were  sharks  or  men  to  be  feared, 
and  when  I  got  out  of  the  train  at  Baltimore 
I  saw  them  following  POE  down  towards  the 
dock.11  I  asked  the  conductor  if  POE  was  in 
liquoi\  "Why,"  said  he,  "I  would  as  soon 
have  suspected  my  own  father,11  L  then  re 
lated  to  him  the  facts  regarding  POE  and 
where  found  the  next  morning,  and  he  ex 
pressed  his  thorough  belief  that  those  two 
men  went  through  him.  >  A  similar  state 
ment  was  given  by  this  conductor  to  Judge 
Nielson  Poe  sometime  during  the  same 
month,  of  the  year  1849,  and  was  repeated 
to  me  by  Judge  Poe  last  April  two  years 
ago  while  sitting  in  the  court-room,  after 
the  court  had  been  dismissed.  We  spent  more 
than  an  hour  discussing  the  poet's  life  and 
death. 

And  just  here  let  me  give  you  the  words 
of  Mrs.  Shelton,  who  yet  lives,  regarding  the 
style  of  clothing  he  had  on  when  he  left  her 
in  Richmond  on  the  4th  of  October.  I  asked 
Mrs.  Shelton  how  he  was  dressed.  She  re 
plied,  uln  a  full  suit  of  black  cloth ;"  remark- 


62  EDGAR   ALLAN    FOE. 

i 

ing  that  he  always  wore  black  clothing,  and 
was  very  neat  in  dress  and  person.  u  Had  he 
a  watch  or  jewelry  on  his  person  C  She  could 
not  say,  as  he  always  wore  his  coat  well  but 
ton  rd  up  to  his  throat,  covering  much  of  his 
person.  1  said,  t:  He  told  me  his  contemplated 
visit  to  New  York  was  on  business,  and  that 
he  expected  to  return  in  a  few  days.11  1  re 
lated  to  her  the  facts  of  his  case,  where 
found,  how  dressed  (when  brought  to  the 
house,  and  she  instantly  exclaimed,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  that  he  was  robbed,  as  I 
have  always  believed,  and  drugged  to  ac 
complish  it.  When  brought  to  the  hospital, 
as  I  have  said,  he  was  unconscious.  I  had 
him  disrobed  and  made  comfortable  in  bed. 
I  placed  an  experienced  nurse  at  the  door  of 
liis  room  to  preserve  quiet,  to  watch  over 
him  and  to  notify  me  when  he  showed  signs 
of  waking.  He  was,  at  that  time,  in  a  heavy 
sleep  or  stupor.  I  left  him  and  on  entering 
my  office  below.  1  discovered  the  hack  still 
standing  before  the  entrance  door  of  the 
hospital,  as  you  will  see  in  the  cut.  I  asked 
the  driver,  "  What  are  you  waiting  for?"  He 
said,  uMy  hire/1  I  asked,  "Who  sent  you 
here?"  He  replied,  "You  have  the  ticket,'1 
meaning  the  card  he  had  brought  with  him. 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  63 

I  asked, "  Where  did  you  find  this  man?" 
"On  Light  street  wharf,  sir."    I  said,  "Dead 
drunk,  I  suppose?"     He  replied,  "  No,  sir  ;  he 
was  a  sick  man,  a  very  sick  man,  sir." 
J::."  Why  do  you  think  he  was  not  drunk? 
I  asked. 

"  He  did  not  smell  of  whiskey,"  said  the 
driver,  "he  is  too  white  in  the  face.  I  picked 
him  up  in  my  arms  like  a  baby,  sir,  arid  put 
him  in  the  hack." 

Without  further  delay  I  paid  the  man  his 
fee.  Little  did  I  then  think  that  after  thirty  - 
five  years  T  should  be  called  upon  to  give  a  full 
account  of  POK'S  death  and  to  defend  the  man 
whom  I  at  that  hour  believed  to  be  drunk; 
and  that  man,  the  great  American  genius, 
whose  name  is  now  a  household  word. 

In  a  few  minutes  POE  threw  the  cover 
from  his  breast,  and  looking  up  asked  the 
nurse,  "Where  am  1?"  The  nurse  made  no 
reply  but  rang  for  me.  I  attended  the  call 
immediately,  and  placing  my  chair  by  the 
side  of  the  patient's  bed,  took  his  left  hand  in 
my  own  and  with  my  right  hand  pushed 
back  the  raven  locks  of  hair  that  covered  his 
forehead.  I  asked  him  how  he  felt.  He 
said,  "Miserable." 

"Do  you  suffer  much  pain  t "     "No." 


64  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

"  Do  you  feel  sick  at  the  stomach  '*  "  "Yes, 
slightly." 

"Does  your  head  ache,  have  you  pain  there  'f  • 
putting  my  hand  upon  his  forehead. 

"Yes."  ' 

"  Mr.  POE,  how  long  have  you  been  sick  ( "" 

u  Can't  say/1 

"  Where  have  you  been  stopping  ( " 

tk  In  a  hotel  on  Pratt  street,  opposite  the 
depot.11 

"Have  you  a  trunk  or  valise  or  anything 
there  you  would  like  to  have  with  you  I "  sup- 
}>osing  he  had  other  clothing  than  that  which 
he  brought  on  his  person  to  the  hospital.  He 
-aid,  "  I  have  a  trunk  with  my  papers  and 
some  manuscripts.11  Note  this,  there  ivas  no 
<'loUi'm(j  in  the  trtntk.  A  new  suit  of  wedding 
clothes  was  to  have  been  placed  in  it  for  the 
(/room-.  His  visit  was  a  business  one  and 
was  to  be  a  short  one.  I  offered  to  send  for 
his  trunk.  He  thanked  me  and  said,  "Do 
so  at  once;"  remarking,  "Doctor,  you  are 
very  kind." 

I  sent  the  porter  of  the  house  with  an  or 
der  for  his  trunk,  which  was  brought  in  less 
than  an  hour. 

The  sick  man  said,  "Where  am  I?" 

"You  are  in  the  hands  of  your  friends,"  I 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  05 

replied,  "and  as  soon  as  you  are  better,  I 
will  have  you  moved  to  another  part  of  the 
house,  where  you  can  receive  them."  He 
was  looking'  the  room  over  with  his  large 
dark  eyes,  and  I  feared  he  would  think  he 
was  unkindly  dealt  with,  by  being  put  in 
this  prison-like  room,  with  its  wired  inside 
windows,  and  iron  grating  outside. 

I  now  felt  it  necessary  that  I  should  de 
termine  the  nature  of  his  disease  and  make 
out  a  correct  diagnosis,  so  as  to  treat  him 
properly.  1  did  not  then  know  but  he  might 
have  been  drinking,  and  so  to  determine  the 
matter,  I  said,  "Mr.  POE,  you  are  extremely 
weak,  pulse  very  low  ;  I  will  give  you  a  glass 
of  toddy."  He  opened  wide  his  eyes,  and 
fixed  them  so  steadily  upon  me,  and  with 
such  anguish  in  them  that  I  had  to  look 
from  him  to  the  wall  beyond  the  bed.  He 
then  said,  "Sir,  if  I  thought  its  potency 
would  transport  me  to  the  Elysian  bowers 
of  the  undiscovered  spirit  world,  I  would 
not  take  it." 

"  I  will  then  administer  an  opiate,  to  give, 
you  sleep  and  rest,"  I  said.  Then  he  rejoin 
ed,  "Twin  sister,  spectre  to  the  doomed  and 
crazed  mortals  of  earth  and  perdition." 

I  was    entirely    shorn  of    my   strength. 


66  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

Here  was  a  patient  supposed  to  have  been 
drunk,  very  drunk,  and  yet  refuses  to  take 
liquor.  The  ordinary  response  is,  "  Yes, 
Doctor,  give  me  a  little  to  strengthen  my 
ner .  1  found  there  was  no  tremor  of 

his  pel-son,  no  unsteadiness  of  his  nerves,  no 
fidgeting  with  his  hands,  and  not  the  slight 
est  odor  of  liquor  upon  his  breath  or  person. 
I  sa\  my  first  impression  had  been  a 

mistaken  one.  He  was  in  a  sinking  condi 
tion,  yet  perfectly  conscious  1  had  his 
body  sponged  with  warm  water,  to  which 
spirits  were  added,  sinapisms  applied  to 
his  stomach  and  feet,  cold  applications  to 
his  head,  and  then  administered  a  stimu 
lating  cordial.  I  left  him  to  sleep  and  rest. 
He  slept  about  one  hour.  When  he  awoke, 
i.  was  again  summoned  to  his  bedside.  I 
found  his  breathing  short  and  oppressed, 
and  that  he  was  much  more  feeble.  I  saw 
that  his  life  was  in  great  danger.  He  asked 
several  questions  as  to  where  he  was,  and 
how  ho  came  there.  Remarking,  in  answer 
to  my  question  as  to  where  he  went  after  he 
returned  from  the  Susquehanna,  he  said  that 
he  had  started  for  the  boat,  "I  remember 
no  more/1  said  he,  "but  a  vague  and  horrible 
dread  that  I  would  be  killed,  that  I  would 
be  thrown  in  the  dock." 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  67 

I  said,  "  Mr.  POE,  3-011  are  in  a  critical  con 
dition,  and  the  least  excitement  of  your  mind 
will  endanger  your  life ;  you  must  compose 
^yourself  and  remain  quiet.11 

He  said,  "Doctor,  I  am  ill;  is  there  no 
hope?11 

"The  chances  are  against  you.11 

"How  long,  oh!  how  long,11  he  cried,  "be 
fore  I  can  see  my  dear  Virginia,  my  dear 
Lenore  I11 

I  said  to  him,  "I  will  send  for  her  or  any 
one  you  wish  to  see.11  I  knew  nothing  of 
his  family  or  friends,  and  supposed  the  per 
sons  to  whom  he  referred  might  live  in  the 
city,  or  that  his  family  might  live  the 

I  asked  him,  "  Have  you  a  family  ?11  "No," 
said  he,  "  my  wife  is  dead,  my  dear  Virginia. 
My  mother-in-law  lives;  oh!  how  my  heart 
bleeds  for  her;  she  had  forebodings  of  this 
hour,  and  said  when  Ave  last  met  and  parted 
at  Fordham,  'Eddie,  I  fear  this  will  be  our 
last  meeting.115 

He  loved  his  mother-in-law  with  an  intense 
love,  as  his  poetic  words  declare: 


V 

68  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

TO  MY  MOTIIKK. 

Because  I  feel  that, "'in  the  heavens  above, 

The  angels,  whispering  to  one  anotlior, 
Can  find,  among  their  burning  terms  of  love, 

None  so  devotional  as  that  of  "Mother," 
Therefore  by  that  dear  name  1  long  have  called  you — 

Yon  who  are  more  than  mother  unto  me, 
And  (ill  my  heart  of  hearts,  where  death  installed  you, 

In  setting  my    Virginia's  "spirit  free. 
My  mother — my  own -mother,  who  died  early. 

Was  but  the  mother  of  myself;  but  you 
Are  mother  to  the  one  1  loved  so  dearly, 

And  thus  are  dearer  than  the  mother  I  knew 
P>y  that  infinity  \vith  which  my  wife 

Was  dearer  to  my  soul  than  its  soul-life. 

I  said,  "Mr.  POE,  I  will  send  for  or  write 
to  any  one  you  desire  me." 

"Doctor,"  said  he,  "Death's  dark  angel 
has  done  his  work.  Language  cannot  ex 
press  the  terrific  tempest  that  sweeps  over 
me,  and  signals  the  alarm  of  death.  Oh, 
(U>(1 !  the  terrible  strait  I  am  in." 

"Shall  I  write  to  any  one  for  you?" 

"Yes,  Doctor,  write  to  my  mother-in-law 
and  Mrs.  -  -no,  too  late  !  too  late!" 

Then  he  said,  "Write  to  both  at  once; 
write  to  my  mother-in-law  and  tell  her 
4  Eddie  is  here '-  -no,  too  late !  Doctor,  I 
must  unbosom  to  you  the  secret  of  my  heart, 
though  dagger-like  it  pierces  my  soul.  I 
was  to  have  been  married  in  ten  days." 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  69 

He  wept  like  a  child,  and  even  now  I  can 
see  his  pale  face  that  told  too  plainly  the 
depth  of  grief  he  felt,  and  the  large  tear 
drops  forcing  their  way  down  the  furrows 
of  his  pallid  cheeks.  1  again  asked.. "Shall 
I  send  for  the  lady  i" 

"  No,  write  to  both ;  inform  them  of  my 
illness  pud  death  at  the  same  time,  and  say 
that  no  conscious  act  of  mine  brought  this 
great  trouble  upon  me.  How  it  has  hap 
pened  that  I  am  brought  to  this  place,  God. 
only  knows.  My  mind  has  kept  no  record 
of  time  ;  it  seems  a  dream,  a  horrible  dream/1 

I  said,  "Mr.  POE,  my  carriage  is  at  fh<«. 
door ;  I  will  send  for  the  lady." 

"No,71  said  he,  "write  to  Mrs.  Sarah  E. 
Shelton,  Richmond,  Va.,  and  Mrs.  Maria 
Clemm,  Lowell,  Mass/1 

Beef -tea  and  stimulants  had  been  freely 
given  and  kept  up  at  short  intervals.  I  re 
mained  by  his  side,  watching  every  breath 
and  movement  of  his  muscles.  He  had  no 
tremor  or  spasmodic  action  at  this  period, 
which  was  twelve  hours  from  his  entrance 
in  the  hospital.  I  noticed  the  color  deepen 
ing  upon  his  cheeks  and  forehead,  blood 
vessels  at  the  temple  slightly  enlarging.  I 
ordered  ice  to  his  head  and  heat  to  his  ex- 


70  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

tremities,  and  waited  in  his  room  about  fif 
teen  minutes  longer,  observing  no  change 
except  an  increase  in  the  circulation,J  His 
pulse,  which  had  been  as  low  as  fifty,  was 
rising  rapidly,  though  feeble  and  variable. 
I  left  him  for  a  short  time,  to  attend  to  other 
patients  in  the  house.  I  had  sent  for  his 
cousin,  Mr.  Nielson  A.  Poe,  now  Judge  Poe, 
of  the  orphan's  court  of  Baltimore,  having 
learned  that  he  was  related  to  my  patient ; 
and  also  for  a  Mr.  Herring  and  family,  who 
lived  in.  the  neighborhood.  Judge  Poe  came 
ns  soon  as  notified  and  also  the  Misses  Her 
ring.  These  were  the  only  persons  who  called 
to  see  him  until  after  his  death, 

POK  continued  in  an  unconscious  state  for 
half  an  hour,  but  when  roused  he  was  con 
scious.  On  visiting  him  again  I  found  his 
pulse  feeble,  sharp,  and  very  irregular.  I 
took  my  seat  by  his  bedside  and  closely 
watched  him  for  twenty  minutes  at  least; 
the  pupils  of  his  eyes  were  dilating  and  con 
tract  ing.  Death  was  rapidly  approaching- 

J  list  at  this  moment  my  friend,  Professor 
J.  C.  S.  Monkur,  one  of  the  oldest  physicians 
of  the  faculty,  and  who  gave  to  me  much 
of  his  time  at  the  hospital,  came  into  the 
sick  chamber.  As  soon  as  he  fixed  his  eyes 


EDGAK   ALLAN    POE.  71 

upon  the  patient  he  said,  "He  will  die;  he  is 
dying  now.77  After  a  careful  examination, 
Dr.  Monkur  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  POE 
would  die  from  excessive  nervous  prostra 
tion  and  loss  of  nerve  power,  resulting  from 
exposure,  affecting  the  encephalon,  a  sensi 
tive  and  delicate  membrane  of  the  brain. 
He  advised  the  continuance  of  the  remedies,, 
including  the  beef-tea  and  stimulants.  I 
saw  the  patient  lifting  his  hand  to  his  mouth 
as  though  he  wanted  a  drink  ;  I  put  a  small 
lump  of  ice  in  his  mouth,  and  gave  him  a 
sip  of  water  from  a  glass,  to  ascertain  what 
difficulty,  if  any,  he  had  in  swallowing.  He 
drank  half  a  glass  without  any  trouble.  Pie 
seemed  to  revive  a  little  and  opening  his 
eyes,  he  tixed  them  upon  the  window.  He 
kept  them  unmoved  for  more  than  a  min 
ute.  I  have,  since  that  time,  been  forcibly 
impressed  with  the  wild  fancies  in  that  won 
derful  poem,  "The  Raven."  Did  he  hear  a 
"  gen  tie  tapping  at  the  window  lattice,'1  and 
was  his  heart  still  a  moment,  "this  mystery 
to  explore  "  2  Did  he  see  that  stately  raven 
"  perched  upon  his  chamber  door  I  Perched, 
and  sat,  and  nothing  more." 

The   dying  poet  was   articulating  some 
thing  in  a  very  low  voice,  and  at  length  he 


72  EDGAR   ALLAN    FOE. 

spoke  more  audibly  and  said,  "  Doctor,  it's 
all  over."  I  then  said,  "  Mr.  POE,  I  must 
tell  you  that  you  are  near  your  end.  Have 
you  any  wish  or  word  for  friends?" 

He  said,  "  Nevermore." 

At  length  he  exclaimed:  "O  God !  is  there 
no  ransom  for  the  deathless  spirit?" 

I  said,  "Yes,  look  to  your  Saviour;  there 
is  mercy  for  you  and  all  mankind.  God  is 
love  and  the  gift  is  free." 

The  dying  man  then  said  impressively, 
•'  He  who  arched  the  heavens  and  upholds 
the  universe,  has  His  decrees  legibly  written 
upon  the  frontlet  of  every  human  being, 
and  upon  demons  incarnate." 

1  then  consoled  him  by  saying,  "He  died 
for  you  and  me  and  all  mankind.  Trust  in 
His  mercy." 

How  impressive  are  his  words  in  "The 
Eaven:" 

1*  there — is  there  balm  in  (iileud? — tell  me — tell  me,  I  implore! 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 


73 


THE    KAVEN. 
*  *  *  *  * 

Open  here  I.  flung  the  shutier,  when,  with  many  a  flirt  and  flutter, 
In  there  stepped  a  stately  Raven  of  the  saintly  days  of  yore. 
Not  the  least  obeisance  made  he ;  not  a  minute  stopped  or  stayed  he, 
But,  with  mien  of  lord  or  lady,  perched  above  my  chamber  door — 
Perched  upon  a  bust  of  Pallas  just  above  my  chamber  door — 

Perched,  and  sat.  and  nothing  more. 


But  the  Raven,  sitting  lonely  on  that  placid  bust,  spoke  only 
That  one  word,  as  if  his  soul  in  that  one  word  he  did  outpour 
Nothing  farther  then  he  uttered;^ not  a  feather  then  he  fluttered — 
Till  I  scarcely  more  than  muttered  "Other  friends  have  flown  before — 
On  the  morrow  he  will  leave  me,  as  my  hopes  have  flown  before." 

Then  the  bird  said  "Nevermore." 


74  EDGAR   ALLAN    POE. 


"  Prophet !"  said  I,  u  thing  of  evil !— prophet  still,  if  bird  or  devil  !- 

Whether  Tempter  sent,  or  whether  tempest  tossed  thee  here  ashore, 

Desolate  vet  all  undaunted,  on  this  desert  land  enchanted — 

On  this  home  by  Horror  haunted — tell  me  truly,  I  implore — 

Is  there— is  there  balm  in  Gilead?— tell  me— tell  me,  I  implore!" 

Quoth  the  Raven,  ''Nevermore." 


And  the  Raven,  never  Hitting,  still  is  sitting,  still  is  sitting 

On  the  pallid  bust  of  Pallas  just  above  my  chamber  door ; 

And  his  eyes  have  all  the  seeming  of  a  demon's  that  is  dreaming 

And  the  lamp-light  o'er  him  streaming  throws  his  shadow  on  the  floor ; 

And  my  soul  from  out  that  shadow  that  lies  floating  on  the  floor 

Shall  be  lifted — nevermore! 

I  here  add  my  testimony  to  the  fact  that 
POE  did  recognize  the  one  Supreme  Being, 
who  holds  in  His  merciful  hand  the  destiny 
of  all. 

Hear  his  own  deathless  words  : 

•'  Father,  I  firmly  do  believe — 
1  know,  for  death  who  comes  for  me 

From  regions  of  the  blest  afar, 
Where  there  is  nothing  to  deceive, 

Hath  left  his  iron  gates  ajar  ; 
And  rays  of  truth  you  cannot  see 

Are  flashing  thro'  eternity." 

The  glassy  eyes  rolled  back ;  there  was  a 
sudden  tremor,  and  the  immortal  soul  of 
EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  was  borne  swiftly  away 
to  the  spirit  world. 


EDGAK   ALLAN   POE,  75 


TOLLING    BELLS. 

The  bells  !     Ah,  the  bells  ! 

The  heavy  iron  bells ! 

Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells  ! 

Hear  the  knells ! 
How  horrible  a  monody  there  floats 

From  their  throats — 

From  their  deep-toned  throats  ! 
How  I  shudder  at  the  notes 

From  the  melancholy  throats 

Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells— 
Of  the  bells. 


NOTE. — The  original  draft  of  the  poem,  "  The  Bells,"  when  first  pub 
lished  contained  eighteen  lines,  eleven  of  which  we  select  for  our  pur 
pose,  being  appropriate  and  significant.  We  are  enabled  so  to  do  by 
the  courtesy  of  Mr.  John  \V.  Sartain,  who  published  the  original  poem  as 
it  was  first  written. 


76  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE, 

After  POE'S  death  his  body  received  the  usual 
care  and  attention.  He  was  clothed  with  a 
suit  of  black,  a  white  cravat,  and  a  collar 
about  his  neck.  It  may  be  of  interest  to  the 
readers  to  know  how  this  suit  of  black  was 
obtained.  I  therefore  take  pleasure  in  re 
cording  the  facts  and  giving  credit  to  whom 
credit  is  due.  A  resident  student  at  the  hos 
pital  named  George  McCalpin,  from  Ala 
bama,  gave  the  pants ;  Albert  Grey,  a  stu 
dent  from  Leesburg,  Va,,  gave  the  coat ;  the 
writer  a  vest,  neckcloth,  etc.  His  coffin  was 
a  plain  one.  To  hide  it  from  the  gaze  of 
his  numerous  visitors  and  to  avoid  unpleas 
ant  criticism,  my  wife,  with  a  few  ladies  in 
the  neighborhood  assisting  her,  made  a  very 
neat  muslin  covering  for  it.  This  was  spread 
over  it  and  the  body  laid  thereon.  At  night 
its  folds  served  as  a  covering  for  his  person. 
The  coffin,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  plain  one, 
simple  in  structure,  void  of  cushion  for  his 
head,  and  without  lining,  plated  handles,  or 
plate  for  his  name.  The  material  of  which 
it  w^as  made  was  not  what  it  appeared  to  be. 
It  represented  walnut,  but  it  was  not ;  it  was 
simply  a  poplar  coffin,  stained  to  imitate 
walnut.  I  was  not  able  then,  out  of  my 
limited  means,  to  furnish  a  better  one.  This 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  77 

I  paid  for  out  of  my  own  purse,  as  you  will 
learn  from  the  certificate  of  the  undertaker 
who  made  it. 


U.vi/n.MoitK,  December  i 
This  is  to  certify  that  1  made  thecotiin  for  the  body  of  KDGAK  ALLAX 
POK,  and  furnished  the  same  by  order  of  Dr.  J.  ,1.  Moran,  the  resident 
physician  of  the  Washington  Kniversity  Hospital,  on  Broadway,  Balti 
more  City,  for  which  he  paid  me  out  of  his  own  pocket.  I  was  em 
ployed  as  the  undertaker  for  the  institution  during  the  time  he  had 
charge  of  the  same,  which  was  upward  of  six  years.  1  made  it  out  of 
poplar  wood  and  stained  it  in  imitation  of  walnut. 

1  IJKDKKICK  T.  NKMtTII, 

Witness:  Undertaker. 

WILLIAM  .)  AS.   DEW. 

My  heart  was  in  it.  1  furnished  him  the 
best  nursing-  and  attendance  that  the  house 
could  afford,  and  paid  the  hackman's  fare 
who  brought  him  ;  and  up  to  this  time  I  have 
not  received  a  dime  for  it.  I  may  be  excused 
for  being  so  specific  in  my  statements.  I  do 
so  to  place  myself  properly  before  the  public. 
It  wras  not  a  charity  hospital  ;  my  support 
depended  alone  upon  the  receipts  of  the 
house,  and  not  one  came  forward  to  repre 
sent  POE  or  to  look  after  his  welfare.  He 
was  sent  there  by  some  one  unknown  to 
me,  and  as  yet  unknown.  The  patients  or 
their  friends  paid  the  usual  charge  in  ad 
vance.  But  there  was  no  one  at  that  day  to 
care  for  POE.  He  was  friendless  and  penni 
less.  Nor  did  any  one  ever  pay  a  single 


7S  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

penny  for  his  expenses  while  in  my  care. 
Yet  it  gave  me  pleasure  to  have  the  distin 
guished  poet  in  my  charge,  and  I  was  proud 
of  the  honor. 

His  body  was  laid  in  state  in  the  large 
room  in  the  rotunda  of  the  college  building 
a 'I  joining  the  hospital,  where  it  remained 
from  the  7th  to  the  9th  of  October.  Hun 
dreds  of  his  acquaintances  and  friends  came 
to  see  him.  At  least  fifty  ladies  received 
a  lock  of  his  hair,  the  attendants  waiting 
upon  them.  It  is  generally  received  and 
believed  that  he  was  brought  to  the  hospital 
in  the  night,  and  died  before  morning;  and 
it  is  reported  to  have  been  an  unknown,  out- 
of-the-way  hospital;  that  he  was  hid  away 
in  the  dark,  visitors  not  being  allowed  to  see 
him,  and  was  treated  in  all  respects  as  a 
poor  castaway.  A  certain  biographer  has 
recently  written  that  u  POE  was  four  days  in 
a  fit  of  delirium  before  he  died ;"  and  his 
cousin,  Nielson  Poe,  is  reported  by  this  same 
writer  to  have  said  that  he,  Judge  Poe,  called 
to  see  him,  but  he  was  in  such  wild  delirium 
that  admission  was  refused;  that  he  sent 
changes  of  linen,  etc.,  to  add  to  his  comfort. 
I  take  this  opportunity  to  assert  that  both 
statements  are  utterly  untrue  and  without 
the  slightest  foundation. 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE,  79 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  with,  re 
gard  to  the  great  occasion  of  the  dedication 
of  the  POE  -monument,  on  November  17, 
1875,  twenty-six  years  after  the  death  of  the 
poet,  together  with  the  names  of  the  distin 
guished  persons  present,  and  who  took  part 
in  the  ceremonies,  all  of  whom  are  justly 
entitled  to  much  praise. 

I  desire  to  refer  to  a  very  touching  inci 
dent  that  occurred  at  the  time  and  which 
now  conies  to  my  mind  with  great  force. 
At  the  tomb  of  the  poet  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  when  nearly  all  had  left  the  sacred 
precinct  now  wrapped  in  silence,  a  venera 
ble  form,  clothed  in  black  and  having  the 
appearance  of  a  prelate  or  minister  in  sacred 
things,  was  seen  leaning  upon  the  base  of 
the  shaft,  apparently  in  deep  devotion.  The 
scene  was  most  impressive,  and  the  effect  so 
decided  upon  the  observer,  who  was  a  friend 
to  the  stranger,  that  he  has  put  it  in  verse, 
several  stanzas  of  which  we  give  place  to  as 
a  fitting  memorial  to  the  dead  poet.  The 
stranger  was  none  other  than  Father  Abra 
ham  J.  Ryan,  the  poet-priest. 

A  stranger  stood  beside  a  tomb, 

I  [is  manly  form  bent  low, 
The  tenant  of  the  tomb,  in  life 

Was  EDGAR  ALLAN  POK. 


80  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

Was  ho  a  brother  who  had  come, 

Fraternal  tears  to  shed. 
And  with  commingled  love  and  pride 

Claim  kin  with  the  buried  dead? 

Or  one.  on  whom,  by  chance  the  dead 

Had  only  simply  smil'd, 
Who  now  would  turn  aside  the  veil 

That  hides  this  wayward  child? 

O,  no !  'tis  strange  to  say  the  stranger 

The  sleeper  never  knew, 
Though  his  tears  have  fallen  in  pearly  chains, 

Like  drops  of  "  Ilennon's  dew." 

But  now  !   the  Ritual  is  read, 

And  the  Requiem  is  sung, 
At  once  by  poet,  priest  and  sasre, 

With  inspiration's  tongue. 

Ilenee,  this  tomb  shall  be  an  altar, 

Where  slander  once  held  feast, 
And  genius  consecrated, 

Claims  lirst  the  "poet-priest." 

On  October  9,  1849,  when  the  body  of  POE 
was  consigned  to  the  grave,  the  solemn  and 
impressive  services,  together  with  the  namor 
of  those  present  and  the  clergyman  who 
officiated,  Eev.  W,  T.I).  Clemm,  were  made 
known  to  the  public.  But  a  link  has  always 
been  wanting  to  make  this  part  of  POE'S  his 
tory  complete.  From  whence  was  his  body 
taken  (  At  wha.t  hour  did  it  leave  the  hos 
pital  ?  Did  any  one  feel  sufficient  interest  in 
the  poet  to  follow  his  remains  to  the  grave? 


EDGAR   ALLAN    FOE.  81 

It  is  my  privilege  to  furnish  this  link  and  to 
make  this  part  of  the  poetfs  history  com 
plete.  A  hearse  and  hack  were  sent  to  the 
hospital  for  the  body  of  POE.  They  arrived 
about  2,30  o'clock  P.  M.  The  body  with  the 
following  attendants  left  the  hospital  at  3 
o^clock:  First  among  them  was  POE'S  most 
ardent  admirer,  Delosia  Gill,  Esq.,  brother  of 
George  M.  Gill,  Esq.,  Baltimore;  then  came 
Professor  Dupey,  teacher  of  French ;  Thos. 
Adams,  president  New  York  Life  Insurance 
Company  ;  Mr.  Herring,  a  relative  ;  Samuel 
Leakin,  son  of  ex-Mayor  Leakin ;  Dr.  Thos. 
Tebbs,  Dr.  John  Johns,  the  Drs.  Dilliard,  Dr. 
Brerwood,  and  Dr.  Grey,  from  the  institution 
and  Virginia ;  George  McCalpin,  from  Ala 
bama;  Dr.  Wm.  M.  Cullen,  Wm.  Bishop, 
steward  of  the  house  ;  and  I  think  Dr.  Large, 
Dr.  Taylor,  and  at  least  a  dozen  students 
of  the  college  were  in  the  funeral  cortege. 

The  day  was  most  unpleasant;  a  cold, 
cheerless  one,  accompanied  by  a  cold,  drizzly 
rain,  nearly  all  day.  Of  the  sympathizing- 
friends  and  mourners  present  on  the  occasion, 
many  were  men  of  culture  and  of  note ;  but 
of  all  those  who  composed  the  throng  and 
mingled  their  tears  over  the  dead,  none  bore 
in  their  hearts  the  poignant  sorrow  and  grief 


c 

82  EDGAR   ALLAN    POE. 

of  one  who  was  absent,  and  the  depth  of 
whose  tenderness  and  affection  could  not  be 
estimated  by  mortal  mind.  I  refer  to  the 
mother-in-law  of  the  poet,  Mrs.  Maria  Clemm. 

Soon  after  his  death,  as  requested  by  the 
poet,  I  communicated  to  this  lady  the  sad 
intelligence,  to  which  she  replied  in  strains 
of  the  deepest  sorrow,  thanking  me  for  the 
attention  I  had  bestowed,  as  will  be  seen  by 
reference  to  her  letter  now  published  in  this 
volume. 

The  appearance  of  the  dead  poet  had  not 
materially  changed;  his  face  was  calm  and 
placid;  a  smile  seemed  to  play  around  his 
mouth,  and  all  who  gazed  upon  him  remarked 
how  natural  he  looked  ;  so  much  so,  indeed, 
that  it  seemed  as  though  he  only  slept. 

\y(  >E  was  a  handsome  mm  and  was  usually 
dressed  in  black.  His  head  Avas  exquisitely 
modelled  ;  his  forehead  very  prominent  and 
largely  developed,  its  measurement  corre 
sponding  to  that  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  a 
cast  of  which  was  then  in  my  possession  ; 
his  skin  was  fair  ;  his  hair  was  raven  black 
and  inclined  to  curl ;  his  teeth  were  perfect ; 
his  eyes  were  brownish  grey,  large  and  full; 
his  weight  about  145  pounds;  height,  five 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 


h 


feet  ten  inches  ;  his  hands  were  as  delicate 
as  a  woman's.  His  whole  appearance  gave 
signs  of  the  highest  birth  and  pedigree. 

Never  shall  we  be  permitted  to  look  upon 
his  equal  again.  He  was  one  among  the 
greatest  of  nature's  poets,  blessed  with  a  tran 
scendent  genius  above  any  of  his  contempo 
raries.  He  was  a  most  affectionate  hus 
band  and  son.  A  kind  and  affectionate  word 
from  his  wife  or  mother-in-law  melted  his 
sensitive  nature  to  tears,  and  when  his  wife 
was  buried,  he  spent  whole  nights  in  anguish 
at  her  grave.  She  was  his  dear  "  Lenore." 

Unlike  the  Roman  orator  over  the  dead 
Caesar,  we  come  to  cast  laurels  at  the  grave 
of  the  distinguished  dead  poet,  and  to  join 
the  great  throng-  in  ascriptions  of  praise  to 
his  genius.  ^ 

Tbongb  cloud  and  shadow  rest  upon  thy  story. 

And  rude  hands  lift,  tin-  drapery  of  thv  pall, 
Time  as  a  birth-riuht.  shall  restore  thy  glory, 

And  /;-/////  rekindle  all  the  st  irs  that  fall. 

I  disparage  my  ability  to  express  in  fitting 
terms  the  marvelous  gifts  of  this  singular 
man.  In  the  galaxy  of  great  names  that 
adorn  the  literature  of  our  country,  none  is 
more  radiant  with  the  splendors  of  true 


84 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 


genius  than  that  of  POE.  By  the  impartial 
verdict  of  all  fair-minded  men,  and  by  the 
sober  and  dispassionate  judgment  of  eminent 
scholars  and  critics  in  both  hemispheres, 
the  legacy  of  letters  left  to  the  world  by  this 
child  of  song  and  sorrow  entitles  him  to 
the  lasting  gratitude  of  mankind,  and  the 
crown  of  imperishable  fame. 


EDGAR   ALLAN   POE.  85 

THE    BELLS. 


Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells — 

Silver  hells ! 

What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells! 
How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle, 

In  the  icy  air  of  night! 
While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle 
All  the  heavens,  seem  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  delight  ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 
In  a  sort  of  Runic,  rhyme, 
To  the  tintinabnlation  that  so  musically  wells 
From  the  bells,  hells.  Mis.  bolls. 
Bells,  hells,  bells-— 
From  the  jingling  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bells. 

n. 
Hear  the  mellow  wedding  bells. 

( i olden  bells! 

What  a  world  of  happiness  their  harmony  foretells.' 
Through  the  balmy  air  of  night 
How  they  ring  out  their  delight  ! 
From  the  molten-golden  notes. 

And  all  in  tune. 
What  M  liquid  ditty  floats 
To  the  turtle-dove  that  listens,  while  she  gloats 

On  the  moon  ! 

Oh,  from  out  the  sounding  cells. 
What  n  gush  of  euphony  voluminously  wells! 
How  it  swells  ! 
How  it  dwells 

On  the  Future  !   how  it  tells 

Of  the  rapture  that  impels 

To  the  swinging  and  the  ringing 

Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells. 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells, 

Bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  the  rhyming  and  the  chiming  of  the  bells  ! 


86  EDGAR   ALLAN   POE. 

in. 
Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells  — 

Bra/en  hells ! 

What  a  tale  of  terror,  now,  their  turbulency  tells! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright! 
Too  much  horrified  to  speak, 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek, 

<  hit  of  tune, 

In  a  clamorous  appealing  to  the  mercy  of  the  tire, 
In  a  mad  expostulation  with  the  deaf  and  frantic  fire, 
Leaping  higher,  higher,  higher, 
With  a  desperate  desire, 
And  a  resolute  endeavor 
Now — now  to  sit  or  never. 
By  the  side  of  the  pale-faced  moon. 
Oh,  the  hells,  bells,  bells! 
What  a  tale  their  terror  tells 

( )f  I  )espair  ! 

How  they  clang,  and  clash,  and  roar! 
What  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air! 
Yet  the  ear  it  fully  knows, 
By  the  twanging, 
And  the  clanging, 
How  the  danger  ebbs  and  Hows; 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
In  tin- jangling, 
And  the  wrangling, 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
Bv  the  -inking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells— 

Of  the  bells— 
Of  the  bells,  hells,  bells,  bells, 

Bells,  bells,  bells- 
Iu  the  clamor  and  the  clangor  of  the  bells! 

IV. 

Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells — 

Iron  bells  ! 
What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compels! 


EDGAR   ALLAN    POE,  87 


In  the  silence  of  the  night, 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone! 
For  every  sound  that  floats 
From  the  rust  within  their  throats 

Js  a  groan. 

And  the  people — ah,  the  people — 
They  that  dwell  up  in  the  steeple, 

All  alone, 
And  who  tolling1,  tolling,  tolling, 

In  that  muffled  monotone, 
Feel  a  glory  in  so  rolling 

On  the  human  heart  a  stone— 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman — 
Thev  are  neither  brute  nor  human — 

They  are  ( i  IK  nils: 
And  their  king  it  is  who  tolls ; 
And  he  rolls,  rolls,  rolls, 

Rolls 

A  pu'an  from  the  bells! 
And  his  merry  bosom  s\\cll> 

'With  the  p;ean  of  the  hells! 
And  lie  dances,  and  he  yells; 
Keeping  time.  time.  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 
To  the  pa>an  of  the  bells — - 

Of  the  bells; 

Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 

To  the  throbbing  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells— 

To  the  sobbing  of  the  bells; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 

As  he  knells,  knells,  knell.-. 
In  a  happy  Runic  rhyme, 

To  the  rolling  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells— 

To  the  tolling  of  the  bells, 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells- 
Bells,  bells,  bells— 
To  the  moaning  and  the  groaning  of  the  bells. 


FOURTEEN  DAY  USE 

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